


Four Idiots in a Warehouse

by miyaji_08



Series: Seventh Sense Climbing [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demons, M/M, Multi, Vampires, Werewolves, Witches, i only tagged characters with plot significance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-13 21:22:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 45,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12992793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miyaji_08/pseuds/miyaji_08
Summary: There are times when Tsukishima is thankful that he lives in a house full of supernatural creatures.This is not one of those times.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHHHHH FINALLY ITS DONEEEEEE
> 
> i know there is less fluff than last time :( the mood of this one is definitely more serious than before. for me, that was mostly because it focuses a bit more on Tsukishima and Tsukki is a salty lil sob. Also, everyone is still dealing with the aftermath of Ushiwaka, so there's that.
> 
> but DONT WORRY. The next instalment will have plenty of love & even more cuddle puddles.
> 
> please please PLEASE leave a comment!!! they are so motivating and helpful and honestly if i had not had such support from the last fic i would have never been able to find the mental strength to finish this. so please, please, if you enjoyed the story, even if you didn't, if you missed certain aspects that were in the last one, PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!! that being said, please be kind. if you didn't like something i would like to know so i can improve my writing, but there's a difference between constructive criticism and insults.
> 
> thank you to everyone who supported my last fic and made this one possible!!

Bakers rise at three o’clock in the mornings on an average workday. They have to set the ovens, make sure the heating is on and the kitchen is immaculate before they even touch the flour. They get to shop before the baristas, the managers, the accountants. When they rise, the sun is still far below the horizon.

“Fuck it’s cold,” he mutters, his breath puffing out into the air. The only light in the area is from a streetlamp. He treads over to the cafe, yanks one of his mittens off with his teeth, and pulls out a key. 

The cafe is quiet. This is his favourite time of the day.

As he makes his way behind the counter, he nods to the figure in the corner.

“Yo.”

Kenma glances up and nods at him. He sighs, throwing his coat on the counter and turning up the heat.

“You ever get tired of just sitting there?” He asks. Kenma shakes his head.

“It’s a privilege,” the short man answers. “I won’t be here tomorrow.”

“Ehhhh. You’re going out of town?” Golden brown eyes narrow. “Whatever shitstorm’s about to happen, you better not drag me into it.”

Kenma just grunts.

“I’m serious. I barely stayed out of the last one. I don’t want any trouble here.”

Kenma goes back to his game.

“Kenma, I swear to god, if you—oh, whatever.” The baker rolls his eyes and goes to the backroom. The kitchen still needs to be prepared, and there’s only so much time before the dough has to be done and rising. He wonders if Kenma’s worried about whatever’s about to happen.

Probably not. Kenma likes waiting.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Kuroo has an all-time favourite view, and it can only happen once every blue moon. 

To be fair, everyone’s schedules are pretty busy. Bokuto finally got a job in town as a house maintenance worker, and while it’s given him some god-tier muscles, it’s also taken away a huge portion of his free time. And Akaashi—lovable, bitter Akaashi—is trying to learn as much magic as possible. The rate he’s at which he’s consuming his books can’t be healthy, but even if they can’t convince him to stop, they’re more than happy to bundle him in their arms during his breaks. 

Oikawa? Well, none of them are quite sure what he wants. He’s been spending a lot of time working on the house and cleaning up the garden, and when he isn’t doing that he’s spending time with Kunimi and Iwaizumi. Apparently they’re working on figuring out who Kunimi was before his Creation—if he was anyone at all—and it’s been slow going.

Kuroo himself is pretty busy with work. It seems their town has no shortage of supernatural occurrences, and it’s been exhausting. Even with Kenma’s help there’s only so much they can do without making the police suspicious. They’re legal P.I’s, sure, but that doesn’t mean they have a green card to do whatever they want like they have been.

So moments like these are rare. Smiling to himself, Kuroo surveys the room.

They’re all cuddled up on Oikawa’s bed since it’s the nicest. Mist rolled in early last night, and the windows are all a relaxing view of soft grey. Kuroo’s back is to the old wooden bed frame, his bare skin chilled from the cold oak, and his toes peek out from over the covers. 

Akaashi’s cheek is smooshed into the meat of Bokuto’s thigh. He looks perfectly content there, one of his arms wound around Kuroo’s calf and the other hooked under the back of Oikawa’s knee (it’s a Forbidden Conversation Topic, Akaashi’s love of toned legs is).

Oikawa’s hair is totally whack. He also takes up the most space; whereas Akaashi is tangled around their legs, Oikawa is spread-eagle over all of them. He’s lucky he’s a lanky son of a bitch, that’s for sure, because otherwise Kuroo doesn’t know if he could tolerate having most of Oikawa’s upper body strewn over him. But that sleeping face—totally peaceful, totally adorable, and totally visible from Kuroo’s angle—is worth it.

Out of the four of them Bokuto is definitely the easiest to sleep with, and that’s only because he’s pretty much a log. He’s pressed tightly to Kuroo’s side, sleeping on his back, and hasn’t moved since falling asleep in the same position. Even his loud snores are endearing, in an obnoxious sort of way.

Kuroo’s favourite view might not be of his favourite place, or his favourite time of day, but it’s of his favourite people. And—

“FUCK!” Oikawa shoots up, smacking Akaashi and accidentally rolling off the bed. “I’m totally late,” he cries from the floor, “I’m so fucked! Iwa-chan is gonna kill me!”

“Not if I kill you first,” Akaashi grumbles, twisting off of Bokuto so he can press his face into the mattress. Oikawa clambers to his feet.

“Sorry!” He whisper-apologises. “Sorry, I forget to set an alarm. I’ll be back later!”

“Hey.”

Oikawa pauses halfway through throwing on one of Bokuto’s hoodies to glance up at Kuroo. “Mm?”

And then he squawks loudly when a pillow finds its home on his face. He topples over with no extra assistance, and within a second Bokuto is up, eyes wide and feral as he lets out an excited growl and leaps from the bed to where Oikawa is on the ground.

“You’re wearing my jacket,” Bokuto rumbles. He has the deepest, sexiest morning voice ever. Kuroo’s gaze drifts over their figures, to the way Bokuto is hovering over Oikawa and how hot they both look. Akaashi perks up as well, draping over Kuroo’s body to watch.

Oikawa’s eyes are taunting as he grins back up at Bokuto. “I thought you’d like that, when I came home smelling like you,” he says. “But now I’m thinking you’ll like taking it off me even more.”

“Fucking christ,” Akaashi hisses under his breath. Kuroo agrees. It’s not fair. Why do early birds get all the action?

“I’ll do more than just take it off you,” Bokuto growls, and leans in to nip Oikawa’s ear. “I’ll—“

_“IIIIIIII’LL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT, WHAT I REALLY REALLY—“_

“AGH!” Bokuto shrieks, grabbing Oikawa’s phone and slamming it into the ground. It shatters. 

“I’m late!” Oikawa remembers. “Oh no!”

He pulls the hoodie all the way on and scrambles out from underneath Bokuto. As soon as he’s on his feet he’s dashing out the door.

“Bye! Love you all! Have an amazing day!” He calls over the sound of his feet pounding down the stairs. 

And then the pounding abruptly stops.

“Why’d he—“ Kuroo’s jaw drops. _No way._

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Oikawa stands on the lower steps of the staircase, socks half-on, hair ruffled. He crouches down right then and there, presses his face into his hands and burrows into his knees.

“Ican’tbelieveIsaidIloveyouohmy _god_!”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“Am I missing something? I don’t see the big deal. They say it like all the time,” Tsukishima mutters into his coffee. From across the cafe table Daichi shoots him a tired smile and takes a breath.

“That doesn’t mean Oikawa-san says it, though,” he reminds the blond. “It’s the first time for him, at least since they first officially got together. That’s what Iwaizumi-san told me.”

Kunimi just sips at his coffee, completely silent. He looks tired. He’s not really a morning person.

With a sigh, Tsukishima nudges Kunimi until the other demon rests his head on Tsukishima’s shoulder. Kunimi’s eyes flutter shut, and Tsukishima scoffs and grabs at the younger demon’s pastry to eat it.

“We shouldn’t even be talking about this,” he says between bites, “that’s not why I called.”

“You called,” Sugawara speaks for the first time, “because you missed us.”

The words themselves are kind; the tone behind them is decidedly less so. Kageyama and Hinata might not be over Tsukishima’s betrayal but Sugawara’s not even past the ‘demon’ part.

There’s an ache about that. A little part of Tsukishima is disappointed that Sugawara didn’t welcome him with open arms, or just forgive him right on the spot. A little, selfish piece of Tsukishima believed that the angel’s love for his flock ran so deep he would forgive almost anything.

_Those are high expectations coming from a demon,_ a quiet voice whispers.

Tsukishima keeps his eyes glued to his coffee and matches his breathing with Kunimi’s.

“I called because something’s…happening,” he says. It’s truthful (mostly). “I think another Falling is about to happen. I don’t know.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Something just feels…really off.”

“That sounds impossible,” Kiyoko says. She looks regal and elegant in her black suit, her glasses reflecting the little light breaking through the fog. Even though it’s been a hundred years since Tsukishima last saw her, she hasn’t aged a day. Out of everyone, she’s hiding her wings the best. “There are no more demon lords.”

“What if you’re wrong about how it’s caused?” Tsukishima asks. Wind curls around his neck and sends goosebumps racing down his arms. “What if it’s not related to the actual lord status? What if it’s…something else.”

“She’s not wrong,” Sugawara begins defensively, but Kiyoko raises a hand to quiet him. 

“I could be,” she says quietly, and that admission alone is enough to rattle Tsukishima to his core. Kiyoko Shimizu. This is one of the most powerful and deadly angels in the world. She’s supposed to be the host of all angel knowledge, and the idea that she could be faulty in such an important matter…

He feels his throat tighten. He watches one of her hands drift to her necklace; a old, copper-coloured key that rests on her collarbone.

“What would cause it, if it wasn’t that?” 

“I would need to borrow knowledge in order to do that,” she reminds him, “and that is an ability that doesn’t work on your kind.”

_His kind._

“I remember,” Tsukishima says bitterly.

“Are you going to tell the others hello before you leave again?” Sugawara asks, folding his arms on top of his crossed legs. He doesn’t look hostile at this point, just tired, and that’s better than nothing.

Tsukishima shakes his head. “No, that’s…”

“They miss you too,” Daichi interjects. He reaches out over the table and Tsukishima’s hand twitches away on instinct. _Don’t let them too close._ Daichi’s eyes widen with hurt and he shifts so he’s holding Sugawara’s hand instead.

With a firm grip on his emotions Tsukishima stands, jarring a sleepy Kunimi into doing the same.

“We’ll look into it in our world and see if we can find anything weird,” he tells Kiyoko. He doesn’t look at Sugawara or Daichi at all. “When we do, I’ll let you know. And tell Hinata to stop trying to follow me; it’s annoying and it’s not going to work.”

“We can’t stop him from doing that,” Kiyoko says plainly. It’s annoying because it’s true. She frowns. “I may have an idea as to what you could be sensing. I will look into it at a later date and make sure everything is in order.”

Well, isn’t that just cryptic as hell?

Tsukishima sighs. Honestly, he’s surprised Kiyoko’s being so forthcoming with him. When he catches Sugawara’s calculative eyes on Kunimi his teeth grit.

He grabs Kunimi’s wrist and uses his free hand to dig into his chest. He holds his palm against his beating heart. It’s cold and slimy and makes his lips twitch into a ghost of a frown. It thrashes against his grip as he rips it out and throws it down.

As he and Kunimi plummet down into the shadows, Tsukishima is struck by the thought that they’ve never seen him do that before.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

_”Hey. It looks like I won’t be around for a while. He found me.”_

Kenma blinks and takes a breath, but doesn’t respond.

_”Sorry for the late notice. I will do my best to evade him. I’m concerned with how much he knows about…that place.”_ A short cough. _”Guess I should’ve known we couldn’t hide forever.”_

A chill runs down Kenma’s spine. 

If _they’re_ found, it’s only a matter of time before he’s found, too.

He glances around the cafe, senses heightened. Everything feels blanketed by the cluttered noises of the coffee machines. He hates this. This feeling of being…hunted.

“What will you do if he finds you?” He asks. His voice is barely a whisper.

_”You know what he does to his enemies.”_

“That’s…”

_”I’ll do what I can to keep them off your tail. But…you know what you have to do. We can’t risk the implications, you know that. Are you ready to sit on your throne again?”_

This isn’t right. This isn’t how things were supposed to go. Kenma’s not their biggest fan, but…

He eyes the back door of the cafe and thinks about his options.

_I wonder what Kuroo’s doing._

Kenma leaves the phone at the table. It looks like he won’t be going to work for a while.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

There are four keys to the house in the woods, and Oikawa only has three of them. He remembers getting them that first night of his arrival, stumbling into the doorway bloody and torn and beaten. Iwaizumi, slumped over Oikawa’s back, left puddles of blood in the carpet. Kunimi dragged cobwebbed tatami mats from the back of the shoe closet and rolled them out with shaking hands; they slept on those mats for four days. When Oikawa closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in he can smell the tang of iron, can feel the dust curl into his nostrils and suffocate his senses.

Tsukishima leans against the doorframe and lets his eyes sweep over the entry. Since it was stained with muck and blood all those months ago, it’s been cleaned and refurbished.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks. His voice is raw. If Oikawa notices, he doesn’t ask.

“Long day,” the brunette responds. He rubs his hand through his hair and then scrubs at his face with it, expression twisted. “I don’t sleep well when they’re not here.”

Ah, right. Something about Kuroo needing to check in with some hunters and not wanting to draw them closer to the house, and Bokuto accompanying Akaashi to some sort of coven thing. No wonder Oikawa looks haggard. This is the first time the four of them have been apart since before the whole—

“Come with me,” Oikawa says as he clambers to his feet. They’re both barefoot, but it seems Oikawa doesn’t really care. He grabs Tsukishima’s wrist tightly and opens the front door, sending a gust of frigid air through the hall. They both shiver and disappear into the night.

They walk away from the house and away from the town, deep into the woods. Everything is totally still. There are no animals out late at night in this place, and even the quiet bubbling of the creek in the distance sounds subdued. 

“You can’t—you can’t tell anyone else about this,” Oikawa warns him as they go along. He still hasn’t let go of Tsukishima’s wrist. “At least,” he amends, “not until I figure out what it means.”

Little buds of blood begin to form around the edges of Tsukishima’s feet as they pick their way through the holly. 

“And,” Oikawa continues, “you especially can’t tell Iwaizumi. Kunimi already knows. I just want to make sure it’s actually important before I get anyone freaked out over it, you know?”

So he’s dropped the little adages? Interesting.

For some reason, although Oikawa is leading, Tsukishima feels like he knows exactly where he is going. His heart—or at least where it used to be—is lost, but his feet know the way. Like he’s walked this before, so many times that he still has the muscle memory. It might just be him, but it feels like the earth is cracked and dry under his feet now despite the constant downpour of the rain from the past few weeks. Oikawa ruffles his hair as brambles lodge themselves in it.

“I’m still trying to figure out what it means,” he says. His voice drops to a whisper but it still cuts through the quiet forest like glass. “You’ve been around longer than I have. You have the entire Legion inside of you, right? So maybe…”

Right. Maybe Tsukishima will know what’s going on. Right.

Maybe this is the thing that’s been putting him off recently.

“Are we close?” He asks instead of the million other questions he has. Oikawa nods. Mist wraps around his bared ankles like shackles.

“It’s just up here.”

They continue on in silence for another two minutes before Oikawa pauses and holds his breath. 

“Don’t touch it,” Oikawa whispers as they reach the clearing.

Tsukshima stares. He can’t take his eyes off of it; like a man glimpsing into the underworld for the very first time. It is beautiful and chaotic and swirling. It’s…inviting.

“It’s just a mirror,” Oikawa says quietly from behind him. When did Tsukishima move? He’s almost face-to-face with it now. “I thought it was normal. Like, just some weird glitch in the matrix. But…when I look in it—it’s—“ a deep breath. In a very small voice Oikawa says, “it doesn’t matter. But it’s definitely not my reflection.”

Tsukishima barely hears what Oikawa’s saying. The mirror is captivating.

“…and—hey, are you listening to me?” Oikawa’s voice is suddenly right in his ear. Tsukishima flinches away, dry holly cracking under his feet.

Wait. 

Holly?

“Hey.” Oikawa snaps his fingers in front of Tsukishima’s face to draw him back to reality. There’s sweat beading at his hairline, and his eyes are wide as they dart around the clearing. The shadows whisper, curling at the edge of the mirror like tendrils. “Let’s go now. This feels weird.”

Tsukishima blinks slowly, eyes still on the mirror. In order to get him to move Oikawa has to awkwardly reach out and grab his hand, dragging him off.

He looks back at it over his shoulder the whole way home.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

So Kenma’s…gone. 

“He could be back?” Kuroo asks the empty room, feeling more confused than worried. 

Unfortunately, the trash cans do not have an answer for him. He sighs and flops onto his desk chair, kicking off and swivelling around aimlessly.

He hasn’t had a single new case that’s even remotely interesting in _months_. What’s more, he also hasn’t made any headway on what caused the falling and if there were any serious repercussions of Ushijima’s death.

Tsukishima mentioned feeling a bit off, but doesn’t know about what. So there’s that.

Things would go a lot smoother if he could just ask Kunimi and Iwaizumi and Oikawa all the questions he has. But…Kunimi and Oikawa, they still have nightmares. What they went through was so difficult, being on the run for so long. Kuroo doesn’t want to make that worse for them unless he absolutely has to.

Could it be time to call another hunter in? He’s been trying to hold off on it for as long as possible, what with hiding an entire house of supernaturals under everyone’s noses, but at this point he’s out of other ideas. He’d ask Akaashi to pull some coven strings, but every time he brings it up the witch would raises an eyebrow and dismisses him with a quiet ‘leave it be, that’s all over now. Looking into it won’t give you closure.’

Harsh, but probably true.

“So boooored,” Kuroo groans as he kicks off his desk and shoots across the room. “Where did my partner gooooo—AGH!” The chair hits something on the floor and it sends Kuroo into a clumsy tumble. He hits his head on Kenma’s locker of video games and howls in pain, curling into the foetal position and rolling around on the floor dramatically.

“What the fuck?” He moans, flopping onto his stomach with a grunt. Slowly he clambers onto his hands and knees, pushing the chair away to see what caused his fall. 

A cellphone. The screen is spiderwebbed (probably from him careening into it) but it looks like it still works. It’s not his phone though, and Kenma doesn’t own any technology that isn’t a video game device. 

“Well what do we have here?” Kuroo says to no one. He picks the phone up and examines it, flinching in surprise when the screen turns on. “Do you still work right?” He tries to open the lock screen, but it’s not picking up his thumb. 

With a sigh he sets it on Kenma’s desk, slowly clambering back onto the roller-chair and resting his chin on the back of it. 

What could this mean?

Only two people know about this bunker besides Bokuto: him and Kenma. He knows for certain that no one stumbled upon it because he’d sense that, especially now that Bokuto’s been able to be his blood donor. So the phone must be Kenma’s.

Why would Kenma have a phone? Even the little burner phones that Kuroo bought him always got lost or broken. Did—

_“I’LLLLLL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT, WHA—“_

_“FUCK!”_ Kuroo scrambles for the phone. “Why the hell does everyone have that ringtone?” 

He tries to make out the caller id and flips open his own phone at the same time, pulling up a google search page.

“Okay, okay,” he mumbles. “Let’s see who you are….” He squints at the name through the spiderweb cracks. “…Yahaba.”

 

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“Hey,” Iwaizumi grunts as he flutters to the ground, his wings nearly flattening Akaashi. “‘Sup.”

Akaashi knocks away one of the wings. “Please try to be more careful,” he says, feathers clinging to his puffer vest. He shivers as he continues watering the plants and Iwaizumi stretches out his wings before drawing them in and ambling closer.

“Sorry,” he apologises honestly. “You know, if you water them when it’s this cold the water will freeze the plant.”

“Really? Won’t it help make frost happen?”

Iwaizumi stares at him like he’s stupid, and Akaashi does not appreciate the judgement he feels happening. 

“It’s a reasonable thought,” he defends. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes.

“Sure, sure, says the witch. You can just wave your hands and make anything you want, why are you trying to do it manually? Or better yet, why aren’t you just letting nature deal with it?”

Akaashi shakes his head. “The frost isn’t happening to any plants on the legal property of the house,” he says. “I don’t know why, but I can’t actually remember any time the plants here have done something other than die in the winter. Maybe this time things will be different.”

“Eh? Maybe.” Iwaizumi toes a sad-looking fern. Maybe Akaashi’s trying to save his plants but it looks like he’s watering them into a cold, wet grave. “So…where’s Oikawa?”

Akaashi quirks a quiet smile at how uncomfortable Iwaizumi looks. 

“Why?” He asks calmly. “Do you not want to spend time alone with me?”

“T-that’s not it!”

It’s cute. Even though Iwaizumi always hangs around the house, he’s also always accompanied by Kunimi or Oikawa. This is actually one of the first times Akaashi’s seen him alone and he can tell that Iwaizumi is getting a little nervous. It’s kind of fun to tease an angel of the lord.

“He’s not coming back until tonight. Something about mirror shopping with Tsukishima.” Akaashi bites his lip. “Actually, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?”

“Sure.”

Iwaizumi follows him down the little stone path back to the front of the house and settles down on the porch steps. He glances up at Akaashi, who shifts a little before sitting next to him.

“I, uh,” Akaashi thinks about his words. “I’m worried about Tsukishima.”

“Okay?”

“It’s just—“ Akaashi turns so he can look Iwaizumi in the eye, “you’re close with Oikawa, and Oikawa’s close with Tsukishima, so…and you’re an angel. I feel like his old flock is still distant from him and it’s…bothering me.”

Iwaizumi grunts. “They’re divided on it. They all care about him of course, but when it comes down to showing it some of them fall short.”

“But—just because he’s a demon doesn’t mean he isn’t still their family!” Akaashi blurts out, huffing in frustration. “Can’t they at least try?”

“Hmm.” Iwaizumi leans back on the rest of the steps, staring up at the cloudy sky and watching the wind carry leaves into the air. “I don’t think it’s a matter of trying this time. Some of them have been told that demons are evil for their whole existence. You think that’s easy to ignore? We both know it isn’t right, so it’s easy for us to say they should. But sometimes it takes more than that to sway someone’s opinion.”

“Still…”

“Just look at you and Kunimi,” Iwaizumi points out. “Sorry if this is too blunt, but you hated him for no reason. You’re a really nice guy most of the time, but I remember thinking that you were such a bully the first time we met. What changed for you? Why did you stop seeing him differently?”

“I…I mean, it was a lot of different things.”

“So then maybe it’s more complicated than either of us can understand,” Iwaizumi says. “That doesn’t make it ok, or right, but it still means that we can’t really do anything to fix it except support Tsukishima while it’s happening.”

Akaashi groans, resting his chin on his knees. “I hate that you’re right.”

“Me too,” Iwaizumi sighs. “Where are the other two idiots then?”

Akaashi has to think on that. Bokuto left pretty early, which probably meant he was going to a pack thing. They hadn’t really been introduced to the pack yet, nor had they heard anything about the other members, but Bokuto _did_ say that the kind of pack he ‘belonged’ to was more of a formality. Even lone wolves like to clump together at times, just in case their freedom is threatened. 

But Kuroo? The vampire had left without a word, slipping out before anyone else was awake. It’s possible he went to see Kenma, his ever-so-elusive coworker, but Akaashi has a feeling that isn’t it. 

“Bokuto’s at a pack thing, and Kuroo went out to work,” he says. He thinks the rest belongs to a private conversation.

Iwaizumi just nods. If he knows it’s a fib, he doesn’t say anything.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

When Bokuto gets back from pack duties, he slams the door shut, kicks off his shoes, and does a running leap onto the couch. What he does not expect is the two extra bodies he crushes in the process.

“Bo-chan, what the hell?!” Oikawa cries out from the reading chair. He’s curled up with a blanket, and Bokuto can hear Akaashi cooking in the kitchen with Iwaizumi. Kuroo’s not home yet, which means—

“Get the fuck off of us,” Tsukishima growls low in his throat. His head is twisted over his shoulder, back pressed to Bokuto’s chest, so that he can glare effectively He’s caging Kunimi in below him to make sure the younger demon doesn’t get crushed. It’s cute how close the two have gotten.

“Mmmmm, no~” Bokuto flops back onto them. They look comfy. Rainwater drips from the tips of his hair, soaking the back of Tsukishima’s shirt.

Tsukishima splutters, which he expected, but Kunimi gives him this aloof and tiny smile that makes his heart clench, so it’s all alright. 

“Oikawa, you’re boyfriend is _crushing us_ ,” Tsukishima hisses. Oikawa, now that he knows Kunimi won’t get smushed, snorts at them and continues flipping through his magazine. Traitor.

Still, there’s something nice about the physical contact. Tsukishima went so long without any sort of hugs…and this is. It’s nice.

He sort of smiles, and when he looks down Kunimi is staring up at him with that vacant expression and nods. 

_You look happy_ his gaze seems to say. Tsukishima can’t say he isn’t.

“Did you have fun mirror shopping today?” Bokuto asks into Tsukishima’s shoulder, still draped over the demon’s back. “You both look tired~”

Tsukishima opens his mouth to say something, but it’s Oikawa who answers him with a quickly cut-in, “we didn’t find anything worthwhile.”

“Ehhhhhh~” Bokuto sighs. He reaches up and around Tsukishima so that he can pat Kunimi on the head; Kunimi flinches in surprise before leaning into it. “Why’d you want to look at mirrors, anyway?”

“Well—“  
“Honeys, I’m hooome~” Kuroo calls as the front door swings open. A gust of cool late-November wind scurries in after him, whipping through the first floor of the house. Kunimi makes a noise and tucks into Tsukishima, who relents under the added pressure of a werewolf laying on him and presses the other demon into the couch. Bokuto yips a little and rolls them sideways so that Kunimi won’t suffocate, using his bulky arms to keep them all together.

Kuroo grins warmly at the scene. “Jeez, Bo, did you finally find new people to snuggle?”

“They smell good,” Bokuto says happily. “Like honey. But you still smell better.”

Kuroo just laughs, dropping his jacket onto the back of the couch and draping himself over Oikawa’s lap to give him a hello kiss. Tsukishima wriggles until he can look Kuroo in the eye to address him.

“Have you seen your coworker lately?” He asks nonchalantly. “Your office in town has dust everywhere.”

“You went by my office?” Kuroo glances up from watching Oikawa. He looks surprised, and Tsukishima feels a flare of uncertainty in the pit of his stomach. However, Kuroo’s look just turns thoughtful. It seems he’s too tired to really analyse anything at this point. “Yeah, Kenma’s been out for a little while. Should be back soon or something.”

Or something? Kuroo hasn’t picked up on anything, then, or he’s hiding it if he has. Tsukishima can’t decide which option he prefers.

Whatever. He’ll corner the slippery bastard later. Right now he’s…comfortable.

“Are you asleep?” He mutters, and it’s less of a question and more of a statement. Bokuto coos as Kunimi’s breathing evens out a little more. 

Oikawa is watching them with those gooey heartbreaker eyes of his, abandoning his magazine as he wraps his arms around Kuroo’s waist and looks over the three of them with a smile. It feels weird to be on the receiving end of that smile—because as much as Oikawa glances at Bokuto and Kunimi in turn, he also gazes at Tsukishima with that familial fondness.

There’s an ache in his chest from it. Suddenly he feels like he can’t breathe.

“No,” Kunimi whines as Tsukishima attempts to untangle himself. The smaller demon is still dazed, hands instinctively gripping at his wrist. _Cute._

“Here.” 

Tsukishima looks up and sees Akaashi standing behind the couch, eyes knowing, holding out some napkins.

“You can help me set the table,” Akaashi says when it’s clear Tsukishima’s not going to respond.

Robotically, Tsukishima untangles himself from the others and follows. He tries to swallow the cold feeling that’s seeping into his bones. Why is he thinking about _them_? They hate demons, and they hate cowards, and…

And they hate him.

 

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Water drips from the ceiling, brown and smelly. There’s a flicker of light underneath the doorway but other than that it’s completely dark. No windows, no vents. No freedom.

It’s not the worst place he’s been stuck, to be fair.

Though the place could really use a heater. Nothing says poor insulation like thin metal sheets for walls. He kicks at them with belated weariness, considering what might possibly be on the other side of them. Demons? Eh, he’d known some decent ones. Besides, without Ushijima around and an empty throne they were a lot more difficult to catch. Vampires? No, too hunted. Werewolves and witches were out too. Even rogue hunters were making themselves scarce nowadays.

“You’re awake.” A voice rings inside his head. Or is it outside? It’s outside. He can hear the door opening.

“Are you here to kill me?” He croaks, his mouth a firm line.

The figure steps closer, until he can feel the scrape of their shoes against his bare feet. They lightly press the tips of those shoes against his toes until the pressure becomes uncomfortable.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” they purr into his ear. He shivers. Curiosity breaks through his willpower like an axe, and he sags in his chair and presses his cheek to theirs. 

“What do you want?” He rasps. “I won’t tell you where the king is.”

The figure doesn’t move away. “A king with no throne,” they say slowly. “When Ushijima fell, he released his power to a certain individual. I want a _name_.”

Well, that’s not good. 

“Why?”

“Why?” They move away from him, stepping back towards the door. Desperation surges through him and he quickly squashes it down. “Because whoever they are, wherever they are, _they have something I want_.”

The door clicks shut.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

The nights are slowly creeping closer to the winter solstice, and it’s sending goosebumps up Akaashi’s arms. As the moonlight bathes him in a pale glow he turns the page of his book, blowing the dust off the next few pages, and sags into the pillows. A small crow croaks from its perch in the tree near the window.

Will they spend the solstice together, like before? Of course Bokuto will need to go out for a run and let off some steam—that happens on a normal night, so it’s only to be expected—but what about Kuroo? Or Oikawa? Instincts are strong on the nights of the solstices, albeit not as much as they are on Halloween.

Akaashi doesn’t like the thought of Kuroo alone in the woods, suffering through the night and terrified of running into anyone. For months he looked through his texts, trying to find a way to help the vampire with his bloodlust, but…

You can’t help your own nature.

“You look stressed,” Kuroo says as he flops onto the blankets. He pillows his head on Akaashi’s thigh and his wet hair soaks into the witch’s jeans. “New magic?”

Akaashi pushes the hair off Kuroo’s forehead with a gentle touch and starts tracing his cheekbones. After a moment, he remembers that he’s actually supposed to respond.

“No, just…thinking. Winter is finally here.”

To his credit, Kuroo doesn’t tense up at the subject. That’s not much to be said, though, since he practically turns into a puddle every time they so much as touch his hair. _He really is a cat._ Instead of responding, Kuroo tucks his face into Akaashi’s hand and sighs peacefully.

They lay in silence like that for a while. At some point Kuroo curls so that he can press himself more firmly to Akaashi’s legs, seeking body heat, and Akaashi slumps more so that they can be more comfortable. He keeps his free hand on Kuroo, tracing the contours of his face and memorising them. 

Kuroo’s low voice is muffled by Akaashi’s hip when he speaks again. 

“Don’t think I wanna leave this time.”

Akaashi is so surprised and happy magic jolts through his heart and sparks all the way down to his fingertips. Kuroo lets out a surprised whine and jerks away for a second, only to have Akaashi abandon his book and pull them closer and closer together until they’re practically hugging.

“Akaashi,” Kuroo complains. Akaashi shushes him.

“Shut up and let me be happy,” he says into Kuroo’s hair. The vampire sighs and accepts it, going limp like a ragdoll in his tiredness. “Why, though? If—if it’s ok for me to ask.”

“I mean…you all know now. And also, I’m pretty sure any of you could kick my ass if you wanted to. Not that you would, but like…I trust you. To keep me in check.”

As much as Akaashi loves that, loves Kuroo, he wants to make one thing clear. So he carefully grabs Kuroo’s cheeks and _yanks_ , grinning at Kuroo’s yelp.

“What the—“

“I’m really happy that you’re not going to the woods,” Akaashi interrupts, “because I hate the idea of you being sad and alone like that. But I also—I get that I don’t understand what it’s like. So if that night comes, and you decide that you really do need to leave, then do it. Ok?”

Kuroo pulls away and blinks at him, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing. “I-I—“

There’s nothing left for Akaashi to say, so he just leans in and pecks Kuroo on the nose. Kuroo immediately turns bright red. It’s a really nice view.

“I am _so lucky_ ,” Kuroo groans, and presses his face into Akaashi’s chest. Akaashi just smiles, petting Kuroo’s hair now that it’s more dry, and tries to find where his book fell. He doesn’t need to say it, but the words echo in his mind. 

_I’m lucky too._

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Tsukishima’s waiting outside the coffee shop for Oikawa and Kunimi when he senses them.

From the corner of his eye he catches a shift on the rooftop: Hinata. That probably means that Kageyama isn’t far behind, but the older angel always was better at hiding his presence from others. Careful not to alert his stalkers, Tsukishima flips out the phone Akaashi helped him buy and pretends to look through his messages. It’s not very hard to look distracted, especially since the stupid groupchat for those four idiots is always chock-full of unread messages.

The bell for the front door jingles and suddenly Oikawa’s pressed up against his back with an arm hooked around Tsukishima’s neck.

“You notice the company?” He murmurs, pretending to scan the texts over Tsukishima’s shoulder. The blond demon blinks before typing out a yes on the screen. “Told you that spell wouldn’t last forever. Do you want us to skedaddle? Or stick it out.”

“It’s fine. Besides, it’s not like they have super hearing.” 

If they want to stew and watch him and the “terrible” person Tsukishima’s become, they can sit on their high fucking horses and do it. It’s not like he really cares. Besides, if they waste their precious angel time then he’s not going to stand in their way. 

It feels kind of good to shove Oikawa and Kunimi in their faces. _See? I’m not alone. I don’t need you._

Suddenly Kunimi’s there, his arms weighted with plates and an apple pie.

“Please help me,” he says quietly. Oikawa laughs lightly as he grabs for the plates, but Tsukishima pulls them away before he can.

“Hands off, butterfingers.”

They start to make their way over to a table. “Oh, c’mon Tsukki! I drop your food _one time_!”

Kunimi pads after them with the pie. He makes the wise decision to stay out of it, too tired to bicker. It’s only when they all sit down that Tsukishima remembers: Kunimi is scared of angels. 

Iwaizumi, of course, is totally fine. But seeing as angels and demons are usually at each other’s throats, it makes sense that Kunimi looks more than a little put off. Tsukishima nudges their knees together under the table. _It’s fine. I know who they are._

Kunimi nods uncertainly and starts eating, his dark eyes flickering over to Hinata’s perch every so often.

“So,” Oikawa starts, “I decided I’m going to tell the others about the whole mirror thing.”

“Really?” Tsukishima raises an eyebrow. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “I thought about it and it’s pretty hypocritical of me to keep something like that from them. Besides, lying makes me feel icky. I’m—I’m still nervous though. What if they get mad at me for not telling them sooner? What if they, like, make me sleep in a different room?”

“You’re overreacting.” Tsukishima says flatly.

“But! But we weren’t in a relationship before, and now it’s like…different. Lying is worse somehow. And I…I’m still not really sure if they trust me. Not with caring about them, but with, like…demon stuff. Since they don’t know that much about it.”

“You think they’re going to think you’re evil just because you found some stupid mirror in the forest?”

“When you put it that way…” Oikawa mumbles. He looks put out, but there’s still that little crease of anxiety between his brows. It’s annoying.

Tsukishima flicks him right there and relishes in the surprised expression. 

“Have more faith with the people you’re in a relationship,” he says, “even if they are all idiots.”

“Actually…”

Both Oikawa and Tsukishima turn, surprised. Kunimi doesn’t look up from his pie as he speaks.

“Actually, I think I met someone who might know about the mirror.”

Tsukishima refrains from face-palming only by squinting his eyes in disbelief. “You seriously didn’t think to mention this sooner?”

“…sorry.” He doesn’t look very sorry. What a brat. What could’ve—

_Oh._ He must’ve met them in the forest. That’s Kunimi’s precious alone time, so if he’s willing to talk about it he must really think it’s a good lead to look into. In consolation Tsukishima grabs another slice of pie and puts it onto Kunimi’s plate. Kid’s too skinny for his own good.

“I’m super curious, but make sure you’re careful,” Oikawa warns. He doesn’t like letting Kunimi in the forest alone—him and Iwaizumi both, now that they’ve come so close to losing the younger demon in the past—and it took a lot of explaining and protesting on Akaashi and Tsukishima’s parts to get Kunimi that freedom.

“I am,” Kunimi says. “They’re a demon too.”

Huh?

“Huh?” Tsukishima starts. “Wait, what the fuck?”

Oikawa just opens and closes his mouth.

“There’s—there’s another demon in the woods?” He stammers. Kunimi shakes his head.

“He was just visiting. He wanted plants in the forest. He was nice.” A pause. “He belongs to a pack.”

“Of _WEREWOLVES?!_ ” Oikawa shrieks, garnering the attention of literally everyone nearby. Tsukishima can feel Hinata and Kageyama flinch at the loud noise, fluttering back into the safety of the shadows to prevent from being seen. 

He can’t help but look over at them, his eyes netted by their movement, and he feels a stone lodge itself in his throat. Oikawa and Kunimi’s voices fade into the background as he watches the angels.

They look older.

To them, though, Tsukishima hasn’t aged a day.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“Are you sure about this?” Akaashi asks as he holds Bokuto’s quivering hand. The poor werewolf is shaking like a leaf, wearing his and Oikawa’s jacket and the totem Akaashi gave him last year. Kuroo’s knife, specifically crafted for a vampire, hangs at his hip.

Bokuto swallows and nods, sweat beading up between their palms. “It’s…it’s not like it’s anything official. It’s just…seeing if it’s possible, ya know?” He scratches the back of his neck with his free palm, resting his hand over the patterned tattoo there. His pack mark. “I’m the last of my family pack, so it’s not like I can go to an elder.”

“If you’re sure…” Akaashi doesn’t know how he feels about this, but it’s a little late for that. The sun starts to dip below the horizon, sending the woods into an orange glow. It’s almost winter, but they’re on the cusp of it; a little over a week to go before December. Bokuto’s pupils widen and he grips Akaashi’s hand a little tighter to stay rooted. It doesn’t make Akaashi nervous, per-se, but it does make him a little wary. He tries to keep his emotions calm. 

They keep walking until they see the hanging torches.

Bokuto halts. He doesn’t move for a few minutes.

“We could always go back,” Akaashi says out of necessity, because Bokuto looks like he’s going to shit his pants. 

“We drove three hours to get here,” Bokuto whispers. “Just—just give me a minute.”

Akaashi squeezes his hand, and they stare out at the path lit up by torches and candles that hang from the branches. The sun completely vanishes, leaving them in a pale darkness that seeps into the edges of the woods and sends shivers up his spine. This is an unfamiliar forest; anything could be prowling around out here. Sure, Akaashi’s the one of the strongest witches in his area now, but…the element of surprise is not with them. He hopes they can go soon and have this all over with.

With a great, swelling breath, Bokuto takes the first few steps forward. He pauses, and then whispers something. Squeezes their hands together. Waits.

The torches flicker before going out.

“Great.” Akaashi says flatly. He jumps when Bokuto slips up behind him and wraps an arm over his clavicle; his eyes are like golden beams as they survey the dark forest around them. The sky continues to bleed into a dark purple bruise as they stand, completely motionless. Goosebumps prick Akaashi’s neck and forearms.

“They’re here,” Bokuto breathes. “Don’t move or say anything, and don’t look them in the eyes. And stay close to me.”

Akaashi nods, although he wonders why they couldn’t have gone over these things in the car when they could have, you know, _talked_ about it. Bokuto’s never been known for his great timing.

Suddenly he sees them.

Woven together like a cross stitch, the wolves slowly creep closer. Their eyes are daunting; all shades of yellow, orange, and brown as they hiss and snarl. Bokuto’s arm is a heavy weight and Akaashi, heart pacing a mile a minute, sinks into his boyfriend in a trace of fear. Even if he’s faced down a ravage Demon Lord, these wolves are _terrifying_. These creatures aren’t panicked or enraged. They could rip him apart without breaking a sweat.

_Bokuto’s not like that_ he thinks to himself. Bokuto doesn’t feel threatening at all when he transforms. Then again, he’s also not this _huge_. 

One moves ahead of the others and dips its head, and Bokuto raises his chin at it. The wolf growls low in its throat before shifting into a human form. He’s tall, extremely so, with shaggy black hair and haunted eyes. Scars criss-cross his built form, muscles rippling in the moonlight as he moves. Are all werewolves this ripped? Or just the ones Akaashi finds?

A smaller wolf pads out and presses to the man’s legs as he steps forward and Bokuto’s free hand hurriedly pushes the back of Akaashi’s neck.

“I said keep your head down!” Bokuto whisper-whines. Akaashi pinches him and whispers furiously, “He’s _naked_ , Bokuto, I _can’t_!”

Suddenly the man is a hair away, his dark eyes roaming over them with interest. He reaches out a hand past Akaashi’s face, making him flinch, until he gently grabs a string of Bokuto’s hoodie.

“A demon,” he rumbles, “and a powerful one at that. And a mage…” He eyes Akaashi with the edge of a smirk. “Only three?” He leans in again and takes a deep breath in, eyes glowing a bit as an indescribable expression flits over his face.

“Three is enough,” Bokuto says firmly. He’s not wavering at all, which Akaashi finds incredibly impressive. The other wolf nods with a biting smile.

“Six is best. I have four, myself. But making three is possible too. Unless…”

He turns away, the other wolf at his heels, and Akaashi gasps. The werewolf’s back is mottled with scars—burn scars, whiplashes, brands…it looks like a terrifying, brutal torture. They’re old, and Akaashi can’t figure out why he has the privilege to see them. A warning? Of what?

“Hide that blade from other wolves,” the wolf calls without turning back. “Oh, and I personally don’t care about races, but you know what the elders would say. Be careful with vampires, Bokuto.”

“They don’t bite as hard as wolves do,” Bokuto says. The wolf glances at them over his shoulder and Akaashi notes that the smirk is gone. He watches them with knowing eyes, like they don’t know just how much trouble they’re in.

“You would know,” he says. His voice blends in with the rustle of leaves in the wind as the wolf pack fades into the shadows. Neither of them move, pressed tightly together like the world is ending. _You would know_.

It’s true.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Dinner the next night is an awkward thing. Iwaizumi and Kunimi are gone for whatever reason, which isn’t uncommon, but it’s been a while since they’ve eaten just the four of them. It doesn’t help that they’re all staring at each other across the table like it’s their last meal on death row.

“So,” Oikawa says. Immediately they all stare at him, and he falters. “Uh…never mind?”

Akaashi groans. This is just painful.

“No, actually. Screw this.” Kuroo frowns at his dinner plate. “I have two things to say. One: Akaashi, I love you but this chicken is awful. You put too much salt again. Please stop making it all the time.”

“…fine. What’s the other thing?”

With a deep breath, Kuroo puts down his silverware and glances around the table nervously. “I…haven’t been totally honest with you guys. And it’s not like, a super big deal, it’s just something that I’ve been keeping to myself that I feel like you all should know. Something still isn’t sitting right with me about everything that happened last year. I know you guys want to put it behind you, but I feel like something’s about to happen and Ushijima’s related to it. So that’s why I haven’t been home as much.”

“You’ve been at the office all that time?” Bokuto asks the same time a wide-eyed Oikawa echoes, “you feel like something’s going to happen?”

“I…yeah. I’m sorry,” Kuroo looks down at his lap with guilt written over his face. “Tsukishima mentioned feeling a little bit off, and Kenma’s been a no-show, so…” His frown is a little wobbly, so Akaashi reaches under the table with his foot and hooks their angles together. Oikawa shifts in his seat. 

“I-it’s not just—“ he bites down on his lip and looks to the side when they all glance up in surprise. They’ve never seen Oikawa this way before. His hands are pressed into his lap and his eyes are darting around. A flush spreads steadily up his chest to his neck. “It’s not j-just…you. I’m also…” 

“Hey,” Bokuto says gently, “you can tell us anything.”

Oikawa bites his lower lip as he gathers up the courage. “I found a mirror in the forest two weeks ago and whenever I look in it I—I see myself—I’m—“ he takes a pause to figure out how to word things—“it’s a magical mirror.”

Silence.

Being unable to stand it, Oikawa goes on even with the flush that’s threatening to turn him a bright tomato red. “I’m sorry! I just—at first I thought I was dreaming, but then I found Kunimi-chan there and I knew it was real but I thought it was a demon thing, so I brought Tsukki, b-but he didn’t know what it w-was. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I know I lied to you all, I just didn’t want to have to bring it up unless it was actually important and I d-don’t—“ He dissolves right there, hiding his face in his hands and groaning. “I get it if you guys are mad at me.”

Within seconds Bokuto is up and over the table, launching into Oikawa’s lap and rubbing their cheeks together. He pulls off his hoodie as he does and wraps Oikawa up in it, a rumble low in his throat as he comforts his boyfriend. Akaashi and Kuroo glance at each other helplessly before deciding to try and approach. Kuroo taps on the table as he does, careful not to startle anyone.

“Oikawa,” he says carefully, “I can’t say I’m not a little irritated that you lied to us. But we would never be angry at you for something like that! The time you realised it could mean trouble you came and told us. That’s what matters.”

With slow movements Kuroo reaches over Bokuto’s shoulder and ruffles Oikawa’s fluffy hair. Oikawa closes his eyes and leans into the hand, which runs through his hair a couple times before moving down to cup his cheek. Kuroo’s thumb smooths over Oikawa’s cheekbone.

“Your horns are showing,” he teases lightly. “It’s cute.”

Oikawa’s skin blooms red and flushed all over again and he burrows into Bokuto’s shoulder. Bokuto makes a strangled noise and gathers him into warm arms.

“Thank you guys,” Oikawa whispers. “I know I’m overreacting, I’m just…I don’t know. Thanks. Thank you.”

Akaashi watches from a little farther away, feeling sick to his stomach as he watches Kuroo comfort Oikawa. _He doesn’t know about the pack_. They were supposed to tell him tonight. But maybe…maybe…it’s best left for another night.

Right?

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

When Bokuto wakes up, his bed has two uncommon guests. Kunimi’s bundled up in Oikawa’s sweats, sandwiched between Bokuto and Oikawa with his forehead pressed lightly into Bokuto’s chest. It’s super cute, and Bokuto low-key wants to grab his phone and sneak a picture (most of them are of his boyfriends sleeping, and the rest are of Kunimi and cute puppies that visit the cafe).

The other guest, however, smells less familiar. Lemons? 

“The fuck?” He grunts, twisting over. Kunimi whines and his face scrunches up a little when he loses his homemade heat pack, but all is well when Bokuto settles on his back and wraps an arm around the little demon. “…Tsukki? You smell different.”

And there Tsukishima is, sipping Akaashi’s favorite tea blend and reading some sort of ritual book as he lounges next to them on the other side of the bed. He’s dressed in normal people cloths, though, which means he didn’t come to snuggle. Unfortunately. (Bokuto’s gonna scoop him up one day and show him how awesome it is to be hugged by a human furnace, just wait.)

The blond raises an eyebrow and doesn’t look away from the book. “Heard you guys talked last night.”

“Mm.” Bokuto’s not really awake quite yet. Usually he can wake up pretty quickly but last night was emotional, even for him.

“December’s in a few days.”

“Mm.”

“I think that’s when we should try and do something about the mirror. Before our powers become too difficult to control. I already let Kiyoko know we might have found something.”

“Mm.”

“Are you even listening to me?”

Bokuto just blinks owlishly back at him. Tsukishima scowls.

“I’m not here because I want to be, you know. This is the only stupid place in town that you need permission for.”

At this, Bokuto perks up. “Permission?”

“Angel shit,” Tsukishima waves him off. “Don’t look so excited. It’s just for really old magic places, or places that get visited by a lot of people. Keeps them from being conspicuous. Old magic places are usually booby-trapped and places with a lot of people, well. Imagine a bunch of New Yorkers look over and see someone sitting on top of the statue of liberty. It draws some attention.”

“Who punishes you if you don’t get permission?” Bokuto asks eagerly. “God?”

“G—what? No. No! What the fuck? There’s a high council that deals with that shit.”

Bokuto sags back down and distracts himself with petting Kunimi, no longer invested in the conversation. Tsukishima rolls his eyes.

“I’m going to go back to the mirror today and see if I can figure out what it’s made of. If there’s any sort of enchantment on it.”

Bokuto coos as Oikawa snuggles into Kunimi’s back, engulfing the younger demon.

Tsukishima stares. Bokuto really thinks that he should learn how to relax, but whatever. If he wants to be all cold and lonely on the other side of the bed so be it. There will be other times to force him to cuddle.

“I’m going out,” Tsukishima says. “I’ll be back for dinner.”

“Don’t forget to bring a lunch with you!” Bokuto says.

“Don’t forget a coat,” Oikawa mutters slowly.

Tsukishima rolls his eyes.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Sixteen little black pearls line the top of the mirror. It’s expansive, and from an angle it reflects absolutely nothing, so that it looks almost like a piece of the forest has been swallowed up by nothingness. White holly curls around it’s bottom; the green holly is closer to the top. Little red berries scatter over the ground like drops of blood. Rust edges closer and closer to the mirror’s surface with each passing day. It is ornate, stunning, and expensive-looking, but an undisclosed amount of time in the forest has sent it into disrepair.

Something about it makes it hard to look away.

When Tsukishima walks around to the side he can’t see anything; the back of the mirror is hidden by brambles and an unnaturally thick shrub of holly. He heaves a sigh. There’s an itching in the back of his eyes that tells him he’s missing something, but he doesn’t know _what_. At this point, he just feels like an idiot.

Should he look into it directly?

Probably not. He does it anyway and freezes. His whole body feels out of his hands, like there are a hundred different people inside of him and everyone is fighting for control. He should feel terrified, cold, and disoriented, but all he feels is desire. He wants to get closer in the mirror, and as he shuffles forward the voices in his head get louder until they drown themselves out into a static. He can no longer hear the wind rustle the dead holly, or the—

Skinny arms wrap around him as something slams into his chest, sending him flying backwards and into the ground with a heavy thump.

“What the fuck?!” He screeches, his fingernails sharpening like razors. Too dizzy to get up, he keeps his back pressed to the ground so that he can try to roll over whoever is straddling him. He gets ready to cut the stranger who tackled him when he notices the red hair, and ice flows into his veins.

Hinata’s wild eyes stare down at him, alight with fear. He’s trembling. 

“Y-You—“ he stutters. Tsukishima grimaces. As much as he hates his old flock, he can’t bring himself to hurt any of them, so it looks like he’s stuck here. His fingernails are no longer razors. “Your _eyes_ —“

Oh, shit fuck. Tsukishima blinks and blinks rapidly until his eyes return to a normal colour. He could probably get away if he turned into his summon, right? Crows are definitely smaller than human-sized birds. There’s no way Hinata is fast enough to follow him this low into the trees…right?

He gasps out a breath. When did he stop breathing? Fuck. Fuck. Hinata clenches his fists into the front of Tsukishima’s shirt.

“W—Why did you—“

WHAM!

Tsukishima’s pelvis is freed as Kageyama hits some brambles and smashes right into them, knocking Hinata away by accident. He makes a pained, startled noise and Tsukishima doesn’t need to look to know that the idiot definitely injured his wing on the fall. He swallows the rocks in his throat and opens his mouth.

“Still clumsy as ever,” he drawls. He doesn’t sound half as terrified as he feels.

Kageyama glares at him, looking ready to start a fight. They hold each other’s gazes for a solid moment, Hinata in the background brushing the dirt off, before Tsukishima relents. God dammit. He just doesn’t have it in him anymore.

“Don’t move.” He says, ambling to his feet as he looks over Kageyama’s wing from a distance. It’s definitely some form of fucked up. It doesn’t look to bad, but it’ll probably hurt like a bitch. He steps forward, heart clenching when the pair of angels flinch out of instinct, and tries not to let it show on his face how much he wants to just _run_. He squats down next to Kageyama’s left side and reaches out.

The wing is soft and warm to the touch. Tsukishima can’t remember the last time he’s actually touched one on purpose—aside from, of course, Iwaizumi, who has no fucking sense of space and constantly needs to be shoved out of the way. It’s…nice. Sort of. In a weird, longing sort of way. He cards his fingers gently around the area of injury, which is in one of the small bones farther away from the meat of the wing. Tsukishima can feel how much stronger Kageyama has become in flying.

“This is what you get,” Tsukishima grumbles and backs up. “It’s probably just a hairline. Idiot. Now go the fuck away and leave me alone.”

“What?!” Kageyama exclaims, the exact same moment Hinata’s head swivels over and he snaps, “thats what you say after so long since seeing us?!”

“What, did you want a hug?” Tsukishima snarls, getting back to his feet. He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Sorry to fucking disappoint. Now leave.”

He turns to take a step away when his eye catches the mirror again. His steps falter, the power sucking him in again, and as he tries to get his body to move he feels something hit him in the back of his head. Hard.

He whips around to glare at Hinata. “Did you just throw a _rock_ at me?!”

Hinata stamps a foot against the ground. “You’re being an idiot and you won’t listen to us!”

“Oh, I listened all right.” Tsukishima snarls. “I lis—“

“NO YOU DIDN’T!” Hinata yells, determined to be heard. “You DIDN’T! We didn’t even get to _see you_ after you left with Yamaguchi! You never even let us! W-We wanted to so badly! But you _vanished_! We missed you! I missed you! You’re an IDIOT!” He stomps over and digs a finger into Tsukishima’s chest. “H-How could you just _leave_ us like that?! How could you—“

“ _I DIDN’T WANT TO!_ ” 

Silence rings through the forest. Hinata moves his hand from Tsukishima’s chest and the blond finally feels like he can breathe again. He drops his chin and doesn’t meet that wide gaze.

“I…” His voice cracks a little. “I didn’t _want_ to leave. Okay? But the way they—“ his fingernails dig into his palms—“the way they _looked_ at me. Like I was—I just couldn’t, okay? So just…leave me alo—“

Hinata’s entire body is warm as it crashes into Tsukishima for a second time, this one a hug. It’s tight, like Hinata’s afraid the demon will vanish at any moment, and it traps Tsukishima’s arms at his sides. Suddenly another pair of arms loop around them from the side, and when he turns he finds Kageyama pressing his forehead to Tsukishima’s shoulder.

Tsukishima closes his eyes and wishes that time would freeze.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

 

“How is Kunimi doing?” Akaashi asks Oikawa over their shared plate of apple cake. They’re sitting outside despite the cool breeze. “He seems a little quiet lately.”

Oikawa wraps himself up tighter in Kuroo’s chunky brown sweater and contemplates. His toes wiggle and he hooks his ankle with his boyfriend’s, lost in thought. 

“He’s…tired. A lot of stuff has changed for him in the past few months. I think he still has trouble adjusting sometimes.”

Akaashi hums over his tea. Oikawa had been living with them all for a few years; he’d gotten the pleasure of having relationships with people other than more demons. Akaashi doesn’t think Kunimi had any memories of his past life, and he’d avoided Iwaizumi up until last fall…his heart aches at how scared and lonely Kunimi must have felt. How scared Oikawa must have felt, terrified constantly that they were going to be caught by Ushijima. 

He reaches over the table and grabs Oikawa’s hand tightly. 

“Is…” Oikawa pauses. Swallows. “Is Bo-chan keeping something from us?”

Eh?

Oikawa sighs and watches as little snowflakes begin to fall. It looks like the kind that doesn’t stick, but reminds him that winter is upon them. “It’s just…during dinner, he looked…I don’t know. Like he wanted to say something, but didn’t. Do you think he’s ok?”

_I wish I could tell you everything._

“He did have something to say,” Akaashi says honestly. “But he asked me to let him be the one to tell you and Kuroo, so I’m going to respect that even though I really want to.”

“Did it have to do with—“ suddenly there’s a figure hovering nearby, and Oikawa’s expression turns a little waspish—“sorry, is there something I can help you with?”

The stranger blinks, eyes skirting over their entwined hands. When did he arrive? Why didn’t Akaashi notice him? Oikawa’s hand tightens and his eyes flash a brief, violent red as he shuffles his chair to face the man.

“Sorry Oikawa-san. Kunimi told me you’d probably be here.” The grin was all teeth. It was almost predatory, but skirted the line without being malicious. “I didn’t want to intrude on your, ah, discussion.”

Akaashi takes a closer look at the man. He’s got light brown eyes and soft brown hair that swings over his forehead in a styled curl. He’s handsome, no doubt, and he’s got the same edge that Oikawa did when they first met him. Barbs in unusual places, masks everywhere else. The guy meets Akaashi’s gaze with a steady expression.

“You’re the one Kunimi-san spoke to in the forest,” Akaashi says. The man nods. He’s annoyingly pretty, Akaashi notices.

“Actually, I didn’t plan this at all, but when I saw you two and recognised Oikawa-san I figured it would be easier like this. More natural, less tension.” A pause. “Maybe I was a little off about that last one though.”

With a sigh Oikawa leans back into the metal wire chair and distances himself a bit from his boyfriend. Shifting his ankle onto his knee and resting his arms on the table, he sends the stranger an intimidating stare. “It’s too late for stepping back now. You might as well say what you know. Beginning with your name.”

For some reason the stranger doesn’t find Oikawa off-putting at all, and that really alarms Akaashi. He, as someone who was _extremely_ unnerved by his boyfriend when they first met, knows it takes time and exposure to get used to such a shrewd person. So why…?

No, the stranger just sits down with them, his smile easy, and takes a sip of tea. 

“I don’t know close to anything, unfortunately,” he says, “but if I get a look at it I’ll see what I can find out. My pack and I will be in the area for the time being, so I’ll be reachable whenever you’re free. Here’s my contact.” He flicks a shiny grey business card out between his fingers and gestures for Oikawa to take it. He does, smile brittle. “Besides, there’s something else I’d like to discuss with you, if that’s alright.”

“It will be a pleasure,” Oikawa says through his teeth, and scans the business card, “…Yahaba Shigeru.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Between four people there are a lot of elbows. That’s something you learn when you have three boyfriends. But even then, sleeping in one bed can be managed as long as it’s Oikawa’s bed. No, the issue here is not the four of them.

It’s everyone else.

“Holy shit, Kunimi, your elbow is like a razor blade,” Kuroo groans into Bokuto’s chest. He’s got the little demon tucked into his side, his shoulder pillowing Kunimi’s head, which is a little difficult considering Kunimi is facing away from him and towards Iwaizumi. (To be fair though, everyone wants to snuggle with Iwaizumi. It’s hard not to.)

“Shhh, you’ll wake him,” Oikawa coos from the other side of Bokuto Mountain. “This is nice.”

“We were supposed to talk about the mirror,” Tsukishima grumbles. He’s pressed up against Iwaizumi’s other side. Kuroo has the sneaking suspicion that Iwaizumi is trying to get the demon used to physical affection from angels. Not that any of Tsukishima’s old flock have probably extended that privilege. 

No one answers. They’re all tired—exhausted actually, what with the upcoming snowstorm—and no one wants to do anything. It’s only just after two in the afternoon. The frozen rain is pounding down in sheets and the rest of the house is too cold to venture into. It’s the perfect day to lounge. Even if that means trying to squish seven people onto one bed.

Kuroo sighs, and Bouto shifts in his sleep and wraps an arm around Kuroo’s hips.

“This is so relaxing,” Oikawa hums. “I could stay here for hours~”

He snuggles deeper into the mess of bodies and blankets, relishing in the warmth. He feels safe here. Akaashi must be working some kind of magic, because Oikawa’s body is all sorts of tingly and comfortable. 

“This is why none of you idiots ever get anything done,” Tsukishima says. He doesn’t move at all from his laying-down position.

Iwaizumi grunts and pulls closer the demons on either side of him. The entire house smells good, like rain and apple pie (courtesy Akaashi) and firewood. It smells like _home_. He can’t help but feel like, despite not being an official tenant, he’s a part of that. Maybe he doesn’t have a sublease, but he has a couple books on the coffee table. His shoes are tucked next to Bokuto’s by the front door. There’s a 2-in-1 hair wash shoved amongst all of Oikawa’s beauty products, and it’s always replaced whenever it gets low. He’s a part of this family.

These are his favourite moments. The peace and qui—

_”I’LLLLLLLLLLL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT, WH—“_

Kuroo screeches and flies out of the pile, grabbing his phone at light speed.

“Sorry, sorry!” He says as he tucks himself into Bokuto’s discarded grey hoodie and goes into the hallway to answer the call. Akaashi flips him the bird and shifts against Oikawa’s back. Kunimi wakes from the commotion, eyes blinking slowly before he turns away from Iwaizumi and lets Bokuto wrap him up in warm arms. Oikawa rolls over the pair with little grace and flops halfway on top of Iwaizumi with a sigh.

“Must be work,” he says. “He’s still looking for connections to Ushiwaka.”

Bokuto cuts in, “actually…I don’t recognise the voice. He’s not talking to Kenma. D’you think he got a new coworker?”

“He would’ve told us though.”

“Mmm.” Akaashi drapes himself over Bokuto’s side. “He mentioned he might have a lead on something, but he didn’t say what. It sounds like he’s just been hitting dead ends lately.”

“I thought you were against him looking into it?” Tsukishima asks. He pulls himself up into a sitting position and presses his knees to his chest. “Did you change your mind?”

“Just because I think it’s useless doesn’t mean he does. Besides, there’s always a chance that I’m wrong. Then again I fully intend to argue my point if he starts to put himself in useless danger.”

Tsukishima’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean, danger?” Akaashi shrugs, still tired from his nap. His fingers start to trace the stitches of the blanket. 

“Turning over rocks in specific places can gather…unwanted attention. That’s why I didn’t want him doing it. And I think there’s a part of him that blames himself for not figuring things out sooner, and that part of him is what’s driving this. That’s not a healthy reason to devote yourself to a cause.”

“K-batz wouldn’t do that,” Bokuto says. “He knows where to draw the line. Plus, babe, you know he’s curious. Aren’t you, even a little bit?”

“Well—“

“If you’re all done psychoanalysing me,” Kuroo drawls from where he leans against the doorframe. He looks amused, if not a little irritated. “I have to go meet someone about Kenma, so I’ll be back later.”

“Later?” Oikawa echoes.

“Kenma? Is he ok?” Akaashi asks. Kuroo waves them off.

“Dunno. I should be back before dinner; I’ll text you if I’m not. Try not to burn down the house without me~”

With that, he’s gone.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Bakers aren’t supposed to stay in this late, but he’s special like that. All the lights have been turned off except the desklamp in the employee’s room, and the curtains have been drawn.

He’s just got a feeling that if he goes out right now he might run into someone…unpleasant. 

Just a feeling. But either way, he doesn’t want to risk it, not with the cryptic shit that Kenma’s been pulling lately. Kenma was gone this morning and the last one too, and the baker doesn’t want to get dragged into trouble.

Still…

He can’t help but feel like he needs to be ready for something. Anything.

He leans back in his chair and prepares to spend the night in the cafe.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Kuroo does not return for dinner. He also doesn’t text them. 

“Can you track him at all?” Oikawa asks, toeing Akaashi’s thigh. They’re curled up by the fireplace, with Tsukishima eating an apple scone a few feet away on the couch. It’s almost nine, so Bokuto’s already left for his nightly run with his phone on ringer. They’re supposed to call him if they find anything out.

Akaashi sighs and shakes his head. “No,” he says, “unless we’re sure it’s an emergency, I’d really rather not. That’s a huge invasion of privacy.”

Oikawa is not satisfied with this. “Well, I’m going to go out and take a look around town! Bo-chan told me where his office is so I can look there.” His fingers press into his chest, ready to grab hold of his heart, when suddenly Akaashi’s gripping his wrist in an iron clasp. 

“Just take the car,” he pleads. “You really can’t chance someone seeing you just appear in town like that.”

“You forget you’re talking to someone who’s hid his identity for _years_ , Kei-chan. But fine. Just for you.” Oikawa leans in and pecks Akaashi on the cheek. “I’ll message you updates, so don’t worry!”

Akaashi is definitely worried.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

He walks down the metal chambers with a clipped stride, halting just outside of a thick wrought-iron door. Rust peels layers away from the handle, leaving orange scorches on his palm as he turns it. Water drips from the ceiling. 

He eyes the lack of windows and tables in the room. Not exactly how he would have done it, but evidently it satisfied its purpose. He guesses the idiot pair he hired did technically do their jobs. He sighs. Crooked, bloody nails litter the floor. A hammer rests in the corner. Flies buzz around the pipework of the ceiling, hurtling towards the hanging lightbulb and bouncing off with little pings. 

“You can only go so far,” he hums. His knuckles scrape against the wall, getting caked with slime. “ _I hope you’re willing to play._ ”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Oikawa ditched the car back in the parking lot by the cafe, determined to go on foot. Cars are just way too conspicuous, especially when you’re getting honked at for going slowly and glancing down every alleyway on the busiest street in town. 

Now, though, all the other cars are gone. It’s been thirty minutes, and all the commuters are officially home. It’s a little…spooky. Oikawa wraps himself up tighter in his hoodie and wishes he brought something warmer. This was a bad idea. Why did he want to do this again? Kuroo can take care of himself. 

_Someone’s definitely watching me._

Oikawa whips around and stares at the alley across the street, eyes wide. Nothing is there. Just in case, he pulls his hood up and lets his horns curl out. His magic buzzes underneath his fingertips at the ready.

Why does he feel so scared, suddenly?

“Well aren’t you an interesting one?” 

There are bricks against his back and a leather-gloved hand gripping his jaw, forcing him to look up. Oikawa flinches and immediately strikes his hand out and hits the man with razor-sharp nails. Warm blood sinks into his skin and he retracts his fingers from the man’s gut, shaking as he shoves them away. The man staggers back a couple steps and then squats on the ground. _What the f—_

The man surges back up with an animalistic grin, eyes flashing gold. “I like to play with my food.” He grabs Oikawa’s wrist and grips _hard_ , and Oikawa lets out a ragged snarl and throws his weight against his attacker.

“What are you?” He growls, his other hand getting ready to rip his heart out. He’s ready to end this Ushiwaka-style if need be. The other man laughs in his throat.

“I am many things, you ugly creature. First and foremost, I am a hunter.” He grunts as Oikawa’s free hand stops the knife headed towards the demon’s belly. “Now, let me see what I’m working with.” 

He throws Oikawa back into the alley wall, knocking the wind out of him, and then grips both his wrists above his head and leans in. 

“Oh, you’re quite a powerful one, aren’t you?” A laugh. Warm breath ghosts against Oikawa’s bare neck and he shivers. “Don’t feel ashamed. I have caught more powerful than you many, many times. After all, I have been at this for hundreds of years. You can’t be older than a hundred, no? So young…” A pause. “Oh. Oh, _my_. You must be Oikawa Tooru.”

For a beat, Oikawa’s blood turns to ice. Everything in his ears fades away until he just hears a faint buzzing. Then, just like that his senses overwhelm him once more.

“Do you have what I’m looking for?” The man’s lips brush the shell of Oikawa’s ear and the demon shrinks away before snarling angrily. “I’ve been looking for you, you know.”  
“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

“Ah. Guess not. Pity, guess I’ll have to address…alternative avenues.” He reaches back and Oikawa barely registers anything before the fist connects with his face. His head snaps back into the wall. Blood pools into the side of his cheek and his teeth shoot pain into the rest of his face. The man reels for a second blow when there’s a strange, fluttering noise.

“G-Get away from him!”

Oikawa blinks, still dizzy from hitting the wall, and makes out…wings.

Oh. 

Oh, no.

“Hinata,” the taller angel, just as earnest as his friend, hisses. They both look extremely young in the pale light of the moon.

_Pull yourself together._ Oikawa thinks. Then, _why do angels always get involved in shit that doesn’t concern them?_

With the man distracted, Oikawa yanks himself free and digs his knife-like nails into the closest limb: a left thigh. The man howls in pain, and Oikawa punches him right in the gut over his puncture wound before shoving him away. His eyes start to flicker red and he feels _angry._

“Nice try,” the man coughs, before rolling and launching himself at Hinata. The pair of angels freeze, obviously never having seen combat before. Oikawa swears under his breath and throws himself on top of the man, his teeth piercing his bottom lip when he gets a headbutt to the chin. 

“RUN!” Oikawa screeches at the angels. They stare, unmoving and wide-eyed, and Oikawa wants to rip his own hair out. “I don’t know why the _fuck_ you—agh—“ he gets clipped in the cheek with some sort of switchblade, and knocks it away—“just leave! Get out of here! It’s—you! Get him out of here!” He addresses the black-haired one and hopes that doing so will spur action. It works.

The tall one elbows Hinata with a stricken expression. “Hinata, we have to go. If we find them, they—“

“R-Right.” Hinata’s shaking as he watches Oikawa and the attacker writhe around on the ground, and grasps the other angel’s hand tightly as they dart off. Thank fuck.

“You saved them,” the attacker hisses, and with that he manages to knock Oikawa off and pin him to the muddy ground. Puddle water soaks into the back of Oikawa’s hood, chilling him to the bones. “Why? Why did they intervene? What business do you have with angels?”

Oikawa spits in his face. 

“My friends will find you,” he hisses. Rain drips into his eyes and blurs his vision. “My boyfriends will find you and rip you apart. And that’s only if I don’t do it myself.”

The man scoffs, and when he throws back his head and laughs his own black hood falls off and Oikawa freezes.

Familiar.

The same light brown eyes, the same narrow nose. The same pale, peach-toned skin. The same drawn eyebrows and sharp jaw, the same high cheekbones. The same shade of hair, though this man’s hair is long and swept into some sort of half-bun.

He looks like…

“You recognise me?” 

Shit.

The man’s interest is piqued, and he takes the time to fully observe Oikawa under the pale glow of the moonlight.

“You’re quite pretty, for a demon,” he murmurs, his other hand reaching up and thumbing Oikawa’s cheek. “But I do not—“ he freezes. Slowly, a manic grin spreads over his face. “You must know my brother.”

It’s not a question. Oikawa doesn’t let his gaze flicker, just stares on ahead and puts on a face of boredom. How should he play this? Does he need to kill time, and let those two angels return with someone stronger? No. It would be bad if he was caught up by a higher-up angel. Besides, he had no idea if anyone was coming for him at all. So an emotional reaction is best, something to put this terrifying man off his game.

“I did, before…well, you know.” He says it casually, but he feels the hands on his neck and face tighten. It gets harder to breathe. “Ushijima was on a warpath. He killed thousands. You really th—“ Oikawa cuts off the same time his air supply does. The man hovers above him with a murderous expression, jaw tight and eyes swimming with anger.

“Don’t _lie to me_!” He growls, burying Oikawa’s head into the wet pavement. “Tell me where he is! Tell—“

“GET THE HELL OFF OF HIM!” 

Well, guess the angels are back with reinforcements. Oikawa uses the surprise, along with the irrational level of anger coursing through his veins, to launch the man off and scramble to his feet. Oikawa’s not about to look weak in front of the angels, though, so he reels back his leg and drives his foot back into the man’s gut wound.

The scream is ear-shattering. Oikawa grins viciously, but it’s wiped from his face when the man surges back up to attack. Oikawa puts his arms up to block and—

—and nothing happens. Oikawa stares. Looks like whoever showed up decided to do something, and—oh. 

Not angels.

Werewolves.

 

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“Ah, sorry. I just got a text,” Yahaba says flippantly as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. They’ve been talking for a long time, trying to figure out where Kenma went.

With a sigh of relief, Kuroo sags back into his chair and stares up at the ceiling. It has to be past dinner, right? He should probably text his boyfriends. He takes out his phone and thinks about how little he’s managed to find out thus far, aside from the obvious fact that Kenma is actually missing. 

Oh, shit. There’s a couple texts from Akaashi telling him to text back, and twenty from Oikawa and Bokuto restating Akaashi’s message with more liberal vocabulary choices.

A chair clangs to the ground as Yahaba abruptly stands up, eyes wide.

“We have to go.”

Kuroo raises an eyebrow. “Mind clueing me in here?”

“It’s—look, I don’t have time to explain. My pack, they came here searching for someone and now they’re in danger. I need to get there before something bad happens.”

“Something bad—what the hell? What the fuck is going on here?” Kuroo rises to his feet and yanks on his black jacket, zipping it up as he texts the house groupchat. His pulse quickens. 

“Don’t ask,” Yahaba hisses. “I’ll tell you later, ok? But we need to go. _Now_.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Oikawa’s still pretty dizzy, but mostly he’s confused. Also he just wants to find Kuroo. 

One werewolf is pinning the man to the alley wall, snarling and growling in his face with glowing chestnut eyes and cropped, pink-tinted hair. The other stands in front of Oikawa, at least a couple centimetres taller, and stares. Shocked.

“Oikawa?” The werewolf’s voice is hoarse but somehow…familiar. “Oikawa Tooru?” He’s tan and muscular, like a taller version of Iwaizumi, but his eyebrows are thicker and his jaw smoother than the angel’s. He’s got crisscrossed scars all over his skin, none very deep. He blinks slowly and steps forward until they’re almost nose-to-nose.

And then suddenly he’s pressing his face into the crook of Oikawa’s neck and _inhaling_. Oikawa shivers and tries to move back but the wall is there, pressed too close for him to really move. Warm arms wrap around him and the wolf shifts and presses his face to Oikawa’s dirty, wet hair.

“We found you,” the wolf breathes. “Kyoutani is going to freak out.” His arms tighten their hold, and something about it strikes Oikawa as pure relief. Why were werewolves looking for him?

“Uh,” Oikawa says, and doesn’t move.

“Um, sorry to interrupt,” Kuroo’s voice cuts through the silence, and _oh thank god_ , “but, uh, can you please give me back my boyfriend?”

“Tetsu-chan,” Oikawa gasps in relief. The arms around him tighten even more.

“Who are you?” The werewolf asks, eyes narrowed into slits. Kuroo frowns. He side-eyes the wild-looking wolf still pinning the attacker to the wall and decides to focus his attention elsewhere. 

“Did you not just hear me say I’m his boyfriend?” No response. “Ok, you wanna play that game Mr. Leader of the Packs? Yeah, I know who you are. Fine. I’m Kuroo, I’m this town’s resident hunter. And thank you for helping my boyfriend. Now _get off of him._ ”

“Kuroo?” Recognition lights in the back of the werewolf’s eyes. “You’re the one Yahaba met tonight.” He shudders a little and gives one last comforting squeeze before slowly backing away, watching only Oikawa. Oikawa flushes under the attention, still disoriented and really, really confused, but when he turns to walk towards Kuroo the werewolf steps in his way. Oikawa blinks and doesn’t move, staring at Kuroo helplessly. 

Kuroo flails his arms in a silent “what now?”

Oikawa shrugs, lost.

“Hey,” Yahaba cuts in—this must be his pack, then—and steps out of the shadows, eyes a glowing orange. He gets the werewolf’s attention onto him and holds out a hand. “Matsu, we can trust him. I’ve been with him all night. If I’d known he knew Oikawa I would have told you sooner.”

The werewolf, Matsu, stares back at Yahaba before accepting the hand and pulling the demon close. Taking the opportunity for what it is Oikawa quickly slides away, immediately glueing himself to Kuroo’s side.

“Do you know what’s happening?” He whispers. Kuroo shakes his head and wraps his arms around Oikawa, warming him up. The night is chilly, and the moon is practically swallowed up by the night sky. The rain slows to a drizzle. Subtly muffling a sigh, Kuroo nods over to where the pink-haired wolf is threatening that blond man.

“Doesn’t he kind of look like…”

“Brothers,” Oikawa whispers back. “Somehow. I don’t think Tsukki knows.”

“What is he?”

“I—I think he’s a hunter? I honestly don’t know how he found me. He might be a—“ 

_WHAM!_

The wolf is thrown back into Yahaba as the blond holds out a hand, glowing blue sand hovering around it in an ancient form of magic. His vicious eyes lock onto Oikawa with a grin before sliding to Kuroo and widening.

“Oh! I’ll be back for _you_ later.” He purrs. In a flash, he’s gone.

Oikawa wants to cry. Vanishing magic?! For real? Who does that anymore? Instead, he lets his eyes flash red and points at Yahaba and shouts, “what the hell are you playing at?!”

Yahaba flinches and guiltily looks over at the werewolves. “I…I have some explaining to do.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Bokuto is sitting on the front porch, cooling down from his run and minding his own business, when the car pulls up with some unfamiliar scents and some very _uh-oh familiar_ scents. Why are Matsukawa and Kuroo in the same ten-mile radius? Bokuto’s been careful about keeping Matsukawa away from the city and the house!

Should he hide? 

No. He should face this. Also, his nervousness is pushing him to keep Kuroo as physically close as possible, so instead of darting into the house and hiding under the bed covers he strides forward and yanks the car door open. Kuroo blinks up at him in surprise before flinching when Bokuto leans in and unbuckles his seatbelt for him. Oikawa’s in the passenger seat, leaving the three back seats to the pack.

Bokuto stares at Matsukawa from over Kuroo’s shoulder, letting his scent permeate the car. The second Matsukawa sees him his eyes widen to a comical degree, and his scent becomes almost void in shock. Kuroo doesn’t notice—not surprising for a vampire who hasn’t fed recently—and Yahaba doesn’t either, but Oikawa seems to understand what’s happening. Bokuto maintains the eye contact.

_This is **my** territory. They are mine. Touch them and I’ll come at you._

Then he extracts himself from the car and tugs Kuroo out too, looping an arm over the other’s shoulders and pulling him close.

“What are they doing here?” He whispers, letting his head rest against Kuroo’s. “What’s going on?”

“I have no fucking clue,” Kuroo whispers back. Oikawa hops out of the car second and immediately scampers over to his boyfriends, stomping the last couple of steps and fisting the ends of his jacket sleeves.

“Kou-chan, I think one of them _scented_ me!” He hisses. Bokuto blinks. A cool anger washes over him when he realises that the demon is right: Oikawa has Matsukawa’s scent all over his neck. Matsukawa was close enough to him to scent his _neck_ without permission.

He lunges forward at the werewolf getting out of the car and Kuroo nearly gets toppled over stopping him. 

“Bo, what the hell?!” Kuroo grunts as he angles his body entirely against Bokuto’s. Even with his supernatural strength it’s almost impossible to hold the other back. His heels dig into the gravel. “Calm down!”

“This is a misunderstanding,” Yahaba says nervously from behind Matsukawa. “He didn’t _mean_ to scent Oikawa-san, ok? Can we please just get inside and sort this out?”

“Don’t act so high and mighty,” Oikawa defends. “The only reason you’re so calm is because you’re the only one who knows what’s going on.”

Kuroo glances between Oikawa and Bokuto with a look that says he is very Tired and if they don’t stop arguing he might Lose It. Sensing his impeding doom, Bokuto stops fighting the hold and sags into Kuroo. The vampire lets out a huff from the added weight, taking a step back. He grabs both his boyfriends’ hands and squeezes.

“Whatever’s going on, we’ll figure it out,” he says quietly. “So for now, let’s just get inside. Oikawa, think you can grab Akaashi and make sure the living room’s cleared out?”

Kuroo wills Oikawa to understand what he’s asking. If Tsukishima’s still home—which he usually is, now more than before—that could cause even more confusion and chaos. They need to get into a place where they can talk without wanting to rip each other’s heads off for more than two seconds. 

Thankfully, Oikawa is a fairly perceptive person. He nods and darts into the house without a second thought.

“Now,” Kuroo says, still putting himself between his remaining boyfriend and the pack. “Before we go into the house, I need to make a couple things clear.” He leans back into Bokuto and crosses his arms. “I stopped him because we need to know what’s going on, but if at any point you do something that endangers the people who live here then if you think I’m going to stop him again you’re wrong. And if you’re not willing to be upfront with us, then you might as well leave.”

“But—“

Kuroo interrupts whatever excuse Yahaba was about to make with a biting, “I just spent six hours with you trying to figure out where my coworker is. Don’t believe for a second that I’m under the impression you were trying to help me more than you were trying to help yourself. I’m nice, not stupid.”

Yahaba’s mouth opens and closes a couple times before flattening into a tired line. He flicks his hair to the side, revealing a glimpse of a thin white scar at his hairline. “Fine. But you have to be upfront with us too. There’s a lot more going on here than you know.”

“The only reason I don’t know is because _you_ decided to keep everything to yourself,” Kuroo shoots back. Bokuto hums low in his chest. “Now, let’s go inside and get this sorted out, shall we?”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

This is the most uncomfortable situation Akaashi has ever been in in his entire life. Nothing will beat this. Not the time that he accidentally bewitched Oikawa’s hair to stand straight up. Not even the time where he messed up a simple heating spell and got Kunimi stuck to a bed in the Aeon home store. This is just…genuinely uncomfortable.

He slowly works his fingers through the soft baby hair at the nape of Oikawa’s neck as everyone else situates themselves. 

Honestly, he’s a little worried about how Bokuto won’t let Kuroo more than an arm’s length away, but what bothers him the most is how out of it Oikawa is acting. He looks terrible compared to how he left—the back of his jacket is soaked, his spirit is out of sorts, and his hair is a _mess_. It’s unsettling to see someone too tired to care about their appearance. Especially when that person is Oikawa, who always, _always_ cares about his appearance.

Once they’re all in the living room, Oikawa’s jacket soaking cold rainwater into Akaashi’s side and their boyfriends settled by them on the couch, he decides to begin.

“Yahaba-san, we will ask the questions first,” he says. He doesn’t give anyone an opportunity for Yahaba to react, quickly moving onto: “how did you find us?”

“Kuroo-san found my number o—“

“That is not what I mean,” Akaashi swiftly interrupts, deducing that Yahaba must be the person Bokuto had heard Kuroo speaking to a few days ago. “The first time we met, Oikawa-san and I were at a cafe. Kuroo met you for the first time this afternoon. But the first person you actually met was Kunimi, in the forest. He said you just happened to be in the area, but both of us know that’s not true. So, how did you find us?”

Matsu’s eyes widen, and the pink one hisses in Yahaba’s ear, “ _you found both of them?!_ ”

Yahaba shrinks down into the couch. “Ok, ok, I’ll start from the beginning.

“We’ve been looking for Oikawa-san for a while—ever since he escaped Ushijima. But he’s hard to find, and we weren’t able to find any leads. So I thought I would go to the person who knows demon magic the best—Kenma-san. We were already acquaintances from a while back, when he helped us with a rogue witch. But before I could meet with him, I was attacked by a hunter who was looking for him. Apparently he was also looking for you, Oikawa-san.”

“So you think Kenma’s in hiding?” Kuroo asks, eyes narrowed. Yahaba shakes his head.

“I don’t know. I really did meet up with you so we could actually work together. When I ran into Kunimi-san in the woods, I was looking for leads. Meeting Kunimi-san, I knew he had to be the one with Oikawa-san. Unfortunately, the hunter who attacked me before caught up.”

“Why were you looking for me?” Oikawa asks tiredly. He closes his eyes and sags into Akaashi’s legs. Wood from the fireplace crackles and pops, and Yahaba watches it with blank eyes. For once, the demon looks surprisingly vulnerable. Matsu rubs his thumb gently over Yahaba’s knuckles and the pink-haired werewolf edges closer from the other side.

When it’s clear the demon won’t continue, the pink-haired werewolf does for him.

“When Ushijima took a human heart, he took away what that person loved most in the world. But you—you kept it. Not your heart, but…the stuff that came with it. Because…even though Ushijima took your heart, you still loved that angel.”

“Wait, what?” Bokuto asks, glancing over at Oikawa. “’s that true? It’s not normal to feel stuff?”

“I feel enough,” Oikawa mumbles. His sock-covered toes curl into the carpet and he grimaces. He doesn’t talk about his time under Ushijima. “Honestly, I had to learn how. I _didn’t_ feel at first, and then when I could—“ his voice leaps from his throat and he makes a frustrated noise. “When it’s taken like that—when it’s ripped out—a lot gets…lost. Iwaizumi was the one who taught me how to feel again. And then I taught Kunimi-chan.”

“Still. It’s—we—“ Yahaba swallows. “Ushijima took someone’s heart, someone from our pack. But he—he wasn’t really—“

“One of our werewolves got his heart stolen, and you killed the one who ate it. You’re the one all his creations fall to, right? We’re not asking you to fix him, because he’s the one who needs to change and he’s the one who needs to want it. But we’re asking for your help. We’re stuck. Someone we love is suffering and we can’t just leave him.” The pink-haired werewolf says.

“And he’s not a demon?” Oikawa asks after biting his lip. His eyes are shiny in the crackle of the firelight. “Not even half?”

“Not even half.”

Silence. Oikawa hums and presses himself firmly into the back of the couch, eyes on the floor as he thinks. Outside, the wind howls and presses into the thin glass windowpanes; trees rattle and shake in a harmonious percussion. 

Suddenly he stands and reaches out, fisting the collar of Kuroo’s flannel.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” He says. Then he walks off, Kuroo stumbling after him.

If Akaashi thought it was bad before, this is _so much worse_. Matsu and the pink-haired werewolf stare down at their hands, uncertain of what to say, and Yahaba refuses to do anything but stare blankly into the fire.

“Please understand,” the demon says finally, facing Bokuto. “I really had no idea that Kuroo-san knew you or Oikawa-san. If I had, I would have approached you all together to avoid confusion. When he called me, I just thought he would help me figure out where Kenma-san went. Things shouldn’t have happened this way. I’m…sorry.”

With a deep breath Akaashi pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. 

Something like this was bound to happen eventually. The circumstances surrounding Oikawa’s creation as a demon and the suddenness of Ushijima’s death were too complicated not to leave any residual issues. Besides, as much as he hates to admit it, Kuroo’s right. They’ve been living in a bubble for too long. 

Dealing with Ushijima didn’t feel like ending their problems. It felt like they were just beginning.

“I can’t speak for Oikawa-kun or Kuroo-kun,” Akaashi says finally, “but I forgive you.”

“What?!” Bokuto exclaims, jumping up from his seat. “But—but—“

“I’m not saying it was alright, Bokuto-kun, only that I forgive them. Surely you must understand acting irrationally about people you care for?”

Matsu eyes them both with a calculative expression. “I’m glad,” he says. “That he’s in good hands, that is. We weren’t sure…killing a demon lord, that’s pretty nasty stuff. The rumours about him don’t exactly paint him in the best light, but.“ A deep breath. “We wanted to find Oikawa, but we were worried about what would happen when we did. If he would be ok enough to help. And we were terrified the hunter would kill him before we could even find out.”

“Oh,” Bokuto says softly. He sits back down.

“I do have to ask, though,” the pink-haired werewolf cuts in. “A human? Really?”

What.

Yahaba nods. “That concerns me, too. Even with the skills of a hunter—I’m not trying to demean his experience and mental fortitude—it is exceptionally risky for a human. He’s looking into dangerous corners.”

Akaashi and Bokuto share a look.

_They’re talking about Kuroo,_ Akaashi thinks.

_They should know_ Bokuto raises an eyebrow. The responsibility of it takes Akaashi by surprise, if only because Bokuto’s been extremely stressed about getting full approval for being a pack. This would solve all of those issues.

_It’s not really any of their business_ Akaashi reasons. Bokuto blinks.

_Yeah, but—_

“He can take care of himself,” Akaashi cuts in. “And he knows to call us if he ever needs any help.”

Matsu raises an eyebrow. His bullshit detector is going ‘beep beep’ but Akaashi knows that the other two are hooked, and that’s enough. 

“And the vampire from before?” Matsu asks. Akaashi smiles pleasantly.

“Just because we’ve both been around a vampire before doesn’t mean we’re mated to him,” he says dismissively. “Does it look like either of us have been bitten recently?”

Not on the neck, at least. Bokuto still looks uncertain about lying, especially about something so important, but honestly Akaashi had to learn from a young age that bendy morals were sometimes the only way to get out. He’s a survivor at heart, and that’s not about to change. He does lean into Bokuto’s side though, winding an arm around him in comfort.

Matsu leans back into the couch. “I’m relieved,” he admits, before shaking his head at Akaashi’s scowl. “It’s not like we’re against them or anything. Actually, werewolves and vampires have a pretty good relationship. But pack rites, the magic that bonds you, it…it’s difficult to forge with them. The last pack that attempted it…” He glances off to the side. “You’d be hard pressed to find someone willing to do them for you. Most people call it suicide and refuse.”

…oh. Was that the reason? Akaashi feels a little better about things now.

“What about the person hunting you?” Akaashi asks. “And about Kuroo-san. Do you still intend to help him find Kenma-kun?”

Yahaba nods. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask him…”

“What?”

“It’s just…there’s another person who we’re looking for. Seeing how many connections Kuroo-san has, I’m hoping he might have some leads.”

“What person?” Bokuto asks. 

“Well, they’re more a rumour than an actual person,” Yahaba says. “There’s a lot of lore surrounding this particular demon. They’re not just supposed to be old, they’re _ancient_. The hunter who’s after Kenma-san has the same name stamped into his knife hilt. It’s…have you heard of anyone named Tsukishima?”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

The second they’re in the bathroom, Oikawa shoves Kuroo into the wall and then presses his face into Kuroo’s neck and cries. Kuroo makes an alarmed noise and his hands grasp at air. He’s really not sure what to do. Cry a lot he might, but Oikawa has almost never done it out of genuine sadness.

“Sorry,” Oikawa gasps between the tears. “Sorry, I—I’m just very overwhelmed right now.”

Kuroo doesn’t say it’s ok, because it isn’t. He rubs Oikawa’s back, hand warm and soothing. Mud gets under his fingernails.

His thumb hits a bump and he twitches. _Concussion?_

“How about we get you out of these cloths?” He asks. He doesn’t know what else to do. Oikawa sniffles and nods tearfully.

When he realises the demon isn’t going to do it himself, Kuroo starts to roll the wet jacket off of Oikawa’s shoulders. Next goes the shirt, which requires a little help, and then he’s pulling off his own hoodie—well, Bokuto’s hoodie actually—and tugging it over Oikawa’s damp hair. He grabs a hand towel and rests it over Oikawa’s head, gently rubbing with it. 

“So. You’re kind of celebrity now, huh?”

Oikawa just groans and rests his forehead on Kuroo’s chest. “I don’t even know how they found out my name. How does this shit get around? This is like—like some kind of bad movie. They should’ve just found someone with some kind of experience in this…right?”

“I hate to break it to you, Oiks, but you sort of are the only one with experience,” Kuroo says. A smile curls at the edges of his lips as Oikawa shakes his head to the side, sending water droplets everywhere. Drama queen.

“I don’t know if I trust them,” Oikawa whispers. “They’re strangers, and they’re confusing, and they aren’t telling us everything. They’re not putting us on equal grounds.”

Kuroo wraps an arm around Oikawa and pulls him in a little closer. “I get how you feel, but don’t dock them for acting a little crazy. Is that fair to them?”

“…no.”

Silence settles between them for a minute before Oikawa asks: “Do you know why I grabbed you, Tetsu-chan?”

Kuroo shakes his head. “I’m level-headed?”

“You had a life before all of this.”

At Kuroo’s silence, Oikawa elaborates. “Kou-chan and Kei-chan were both born into what they are. But you—you were turned. So was I. We both had lives that were taken from us.” He moves his hands from Kuroo’s shoulders down his arms and tangles their fingers together. “But yeah,” he sniffles, “also because you’re level-headed.”

Kuroo rests his head on top of Oikawa’s. It’s not an easy feat considering they’re actually pretty close in height. He ends up craning his neck and opts for just pressing their cheeks together instead.

“We’ve got your back in this,” he says, “whether you decide to help them or not.”

Oikawa nods, his forehead bumping into Kuroo’s nose.

“This would be a lot easier to deal with if it wasn’t my choice to make,” he says quietly. “I don’t even know if I _can_ help. It’s not a science. Let someone else choose. I’ll just deal with the consequences.”

Kuroo chuckles. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it? But you know that’s not the right way to deal with it. That’s just running away.”

“What’s wrong with running away?”

“Well, I’d know a thing or two about it,” Kuroo admits. “Trust me, it’s never that easy. And once you start…it feels like you can never stop.”

He swallows and closes his eyes and presses his lips to Oikawa’s soft brown hair. His boyfriend is here, safe in his arms. Nothing is going to happen to him. Not again. They’re all going to start working like the family they are and figure this shit out. 

Also, they really need to stop running off alone in the dark. It’s just not a good idea.

“You ready?” Kuroo asks. Oikawa sniffles again, loudly, before nodding. 

Time to face the music.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Oikawa clings tightly onto Kuroo’s arm when they re-enter the room, careful to keep his expression cheerful and fake as they sit down. He wonders what Iwaizumi is up to in heaven, wonders if anyone’s told Kunimi not to come downstairs.

Oh. Actually, that’s an important one. As soon as they sit down on the couch he pulls out his phone and texts the little demon.

_Don’t come downstairs unless one of us comes up to get you first._

No reply. Kunimi is probably still asleep, then. He’s been sleeping—well, not sleeping, but laying in bed—a lot lately.

“What exactly do you want from me?” he asks the same time Yahaba blurts out: “Is it true you _beheaded_ Ushijima?!”

They stare at each other, eyes wide, before Oikawa whips around to glare at Akaashi. The witch sends him a no-nonsense stare.

“They asked.”

Oikawa opens and closes his mouth before rolling his eyes and plastering his smile back on. “I’ve decided that I’ll help you! But,” he says before any celebrations can be had, “you have to work with us in return. And what we share with you, you have to make a binding contract to never speak of.”

“We…have to work with you?” The pink-haired werewolf asks, tilting his head to the side. He looks like a confused puppy.

“To find Kenma?” Yahaba asks.

Oikawa shakes his head. “That, too. But you guys live near this town. Sure, the guy who attacked me tonight doesn’t seem to think I have what he wants. Still. Your hunter problem may become our hunter problem. Unless you want to settle it yourselves?”

Matsu eyes Oikawa with interest before grinning and nodding. He holds out his hand and Oikawa reaches out and grips it confidently.

“Sounds like a deal.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Kunimi stares out Oikawa’s window from his place on the bed, the soft grey comforter spread around him messily, his fingers tracing the contours of the sheet embroidery. Something in his chest aches. He rolls onto his back and closes his eyes and takes in the steady beating of rain.

He sighs and doesn’t move for a while. When he opens his eyes again the sky is darker, the sun having set. His phone glows on the bedside table, wrought with missed calls and messages. 

“Yo,” Tsukishima grunts. “You see the new pack yet? Apparently we’re supposed to stay away from them.” The door clicks shut behind him as he shuffles into the room, abandoning his jacket in the corner and crossing his arms over his chest. “You look tired. What’s going on with you?”

Kunimi mutters something unintelligible even to himself.

Weight sinks into the side of the bed and Kunimi shrinks away from it. Tsukishima scoffs and stretches out next to him. “Are you depressed or something?” Kunimi shakes his head. He doesn’t feel depressed, really, or even tired. Just… “Hey, are you…” Tsukishima’s hand presses to his forehead and his eyes widen in shock. “You’re sick.”

Kunimi blinks. “I can’t get sick,” he says flatly. It’s true. Blasphemies can’t get sick, it’s the one thing he really knows about them. But Tsukishima shakes his head and frowns, hovering over the other demon with narrowed eyes.

“You’re running a fever. Do you not feel sick?”

Kunimi shakes his head.

“Ugh, well fuck if I know, then. Are you in pain?” Another shake. “The only other thing I can think of is—“

Is completely possible. Totally, completely possible. Because _they_ found him.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Don’t move.” He yanks the bottom of Kunimi’s shirt up and curses again, violently and angrily. “How _dare they_. They think they can just—no. No.” He sits up straight and flips open his cell phone, immediately texting Daichi. This will mean the angel has his cell phone number now, which probably isn’t the best thing, but Tsukishima hates the fact that _Kunimi_ got dragged into his shitfest of flock issues. Ex-flock issues. Whatever.

“What is it?” Kunimi asks slowly. Tsukishima bites his lip and eyes the other demon.

“It’s…the angels from before, those two when we were at the cafe, they’re…they must be using you to track me. I didn’t realise you weren’t branded against that. I’ll get Oikawa’s help later to put the seal on, and then they won’t be able to do that to you anymore.”

“Oh,” Kunimi says, blinking slowly. “Don’t you want them to find you though?”

“What are you, stupid? They’re not my flock anymore. I don’t see why they won’t just go away.”

Kunimi’s head tilts to the side. “But even if they’re not your flock, they’re still important to you.”

“Yeah, well, the sentiment isn’t really returned, so…” Tsukishima glares out the window. He knows that Hinata and Kageyama think they care about him, but they don’t really know jack shit. Eventually Sugawara will rub off on them, and if Tsukishima is still attached to them when that happens…

He can’t handle that. Not again.

“We’re family,” Kunimi asks quietly, “right?”

Tsukishima flops back down next to him and sighs. He feels like this entire winter is going to give him one big headache.

“Yeah,” he says. “We are.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

He’s at Aeon when he sees them, but he can’t run. Mostly because he is pulling a cart with a crate of flour on it. God damn his fucking job, sometimes.

“I’m not arguing, I’m just saying it fucking sucks.”

_Legion._ The baker grimaces and wonders how quickly he could push three hundred pounds of flour into the aisle over. He peers around his crates and spies a little bit.

Legion’s looking a lot better than he was a couple years ago. Well fed, well rested, the works. There’s a guy with his arm thrown casually around Legion’s shoulders, just a centimetre or two shorter than the demon, with a dangerous aura.

“Trust me, Kei,” the guy says, “they would not react well to you. They’re getting hunted by your, uh, look-alike and as long as he’s still out and about there’s no way they’ll be ok with having you around.” He reaches up and ruffles Legion’s hair. “If it came to that, though, we’d protect you. Ok?”

Legion rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

The baker can’t help but stare. It’s…just really oddly domestic, that image. Like two brothers doing the family shopping.

He shudders and drags his cart the other direction. 

It doesn’t matter what Kenma wants, he will _not_ get pulled into that shit.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

It happens when Oikawa is with the mirror. He hasn’t shown Yahaba yet, that’s happening later in the week, but he felt the sudden urge to check on it and usually his instincts aren’t wrong. They’re honed from years on the run from a crazy man. Pulling the sleeves of his sweater over his fingertips to keep them warm, he treads closer to the mirror.

It looks…milkier, somehow. Like the surface isn’t totally solid anymore. Little spots of erosion dot the outer edges, and patches of moss have worked their way into the sides and are now threatening to overtake the wood entirely.

Why did he feel the sudden urge to check on it?

“Ah.” Now he sees. He’s not alone.

Kenma steps out from the undergrowth. He looks…well, not good, that’s for sure. He has dark circles under his eyes, and his fingers flinch and press against his pants like he wants to be holding something. There’s an unhealed cut on his cheek. Most of all, his eyes are lit with some sort of unhinged quality. It makes Oikawa weary.

“Kuroo’s been looking for you,” he says. Kenma doesn’t react at first. “He’s—he’s really worried.”

“This is safer,” he says finally. “For everyone.” His voice is still calm and composed, just a touch dry. Same Kenma that Oikawa met at the train station so long ago.

“Why did you call me here?”

Kenma looks up at the moon for a long time. It’s big, bigger than any other time of the year, and it’s a gaping stained yellow. 

“The one who’s hunting me knows your face now. It’s only a matter of time before he finds you again.”

Well, that’s not a very nice thing to hear. Oikawa’s expression pinches. “…ok?” He says helplessly. Kenma huffs.

“There are things coming into play that you don’t understand,” he says. His thumbs twitch. “I am going to give something to you which will help you. But you have to promise to use it alone.”

“…why?” God, it’s like the whole world wants to make him a liar or something. It’s just one thing after another, isn’t it? He’s tired of keeping secrets, for himself or otherwise.

Kenma shakes his head. “I am not asking you to lie, only to go alone. This is something only someone like you can do. Besides,” his mouth quirks, “I have it on good faith that the angels will help you when it’s necessary.”

“Should I be insulted, Ken-chan?” Oikawa sniffs. “You sound awfully high and mighty for someone who looks like they just got mugged.”

“I haven’t looked in a mirror lately,” Kenma responds flatly. In his tone, there’s something there that makes Oikawa want to read more than face value into those words. They both watch each other for a long time, the only noise coming from the rest of the forest. Finally, Oikawa nods.

“As long as I don’t have to lie, I can promise that.” He runs a hand through his hair. “What is it you want to give me?”

Kenma reaches out his hand as a fist, and Oikawa eyes it uncertainly before walking closer and putting his hands under it. A key drops into them, heavy enough to take him by surprise. It’s old and dusty. Copper curls into a beautiful scripted letter at one end, a cursive ‘K’. 

“K for Kenma?” He asks. Kenma shakes his head. Hmm. Oikawa brings it closer to his face and stares at it in the moonlight. It’s definitely ancient as fuck. “Hey, what is this supposed to—“

He stops.

He’s alone in the clearing. 

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

It’s been a week since they met with the pack and Kuroo feels really uncomfortable. Bokuto’s been edgy lately, and his friend’s moods really affect him sometimes. They’ve always been close, best friends since the moment they met, but this feels like there’s some sort of wall between them.

Akaashi’s in on it, too, and that…bothers him. 

_This is one of the troubles with having three boyfriends_ he muses. It’s difficult to maintain communication between four people, let alone two, and even harder to keep things to yourself. Still. He’d appreciate it if they wouldn’t be so obvious about it sometimes. It just sucks.

“No use,” he mutters to himself, and decides he’s going to go for a walk and clear his head. It’s daylight, and plus he has his phone and multiple weapons on him, so he should be fine. Before he can leave, though, Bokuto pops his head through the doorway to the kitchen and stops him.

“Hey, bro, can we uh,” Bokuto stumbles over his words, “can we, uh, talk for a minute?”

Kuroo stares at him from the doorway with a raised eyebrow, his jacket on and shoes untied. Then he stands and puts his hands on his hips. “Are you gonna tell me what you’ve been keeping from me?”

It’s kind of funny how red Bokuto turns. To be fair, it’s a pretty weighted accusation to make when you’re in a relationship with someone. Blunt, too. 

And then Bokuto nods. Kuroo sighs, glancings longingly at the door once, and then heads over to the kitchen and sits down by the island. Bokuto sits in the stool next to him, rubbing his hands together in a way people do when they’re nervous before reaching out and resting them on Kuroo’s thighs.

“It’s…about the pack.”

“Our pack?”

Bokuto winces. “S…ort of. It’s…Ok. We—we can’t really…become a pack. Like, ever.”

“Oh. Bo, I’m so sorry.” Kuroo feels bad instantly. Being an official pack was really, really important to Bokuto. Maybe he’s just been acting weird because he’s been sad, and if that’s the case then Kuroo is a really t—

“No one will officiate a pack with a vampire in it.”

Oh. 

“Oh.”

Oh, well, now he feels like shit for a totally different reason.

“And—and Akaashi and I sort of lied to Matsukawa about you being human, so he wouldn’t do anything about it.”

…Oh. 

Kuroo stands, feeling a little nauseous. He blinks slowly, ignoring Bokuto’s pained whine, and stumbles away with a muttered “leaving for a while”. He heads to the doorway, grabs some gloves but doesn’t put them on. Doesn’t tie his shoes. Just opens the door and leaves.

This is bringing up some bad memories.

He walks until he can’t walk anymore and ends up deep in the woods. He stops near a tree and leans against it, sliding down until he’s sitting, and just breathes. In, out. In, out.

How is he supposed to react to this? His very existence is preventing the thing that his boyfriend wants most in the entire world. There is literally no way for him to solve that problem without extracting himself from it. And he can’t—he can’t do that. There’s no way. He takes another deep breath and tries to relax. Nothing good is going to come from anything if he just panics. He needs to think about this. 

He really wishes Kenma were here to talk to. 

“I’m angry,” he says first, because that always helps. It’s true. He’s mad that Bokuto didn’t tell him sooner, and he’s mad that the pack thinks he’s human. Though…that does sound more like Akaashi, to be honest. Bokuto’s a pretty upfront person. It’s obvious he’s really been stressed about this whole thing, seeing as he was anxious enough to keep it to himself.

But what was he anxious about? What did he think was going to happen? Did he think that Kuroo was going to break up with them all? 

Bokuto’s not the type to be afraid of an argument. He couldn’t have been afraid of that. Maybe it wasn’t Kuroo’s reaction he was worried about. Maybe…Bokuto wouldn’t break up with him over something like this…would he? 

This is something that would affect them all for the rest of their lives. People break up over different opinions on something like kids, so it’s definitely plausible that the werewolf considers this a make or break situation. 

What if Bokuto was nervous because he was going to break up with Kuroo? Would Akaashi keep quiet about it? 

Would he _agree_ with it?

He…he can’t speculate. That’s not fair to them. But that doesn’t mean he can’t prepare himself for the worst when he gets back.

God, if this is how Oikawa felt for the whole time about Akaashi wanting a coven, he has no idea how the demon was able to handle it. _Oikawa_. His breath gets a little lighter. Oikawa would never let something like that happen. He would keep them all together.

Kuroo just can’t believe Bokuto hid this from him. 

“Well, well.”

He looks up and freezes. Tsukishima—the other Tsukishima—stands at the other edge of the clearing. He looks strange, like an apparition. Fuck, can Kuroo just not go anywhere alone anymore? 

“You seem interesting,” Tsukishima continues, leaning sideways against a tree. His eyes glow through the thin fog permeating the forest, and his mouth curls into a grin. “I like you, I like how you feel dangerous. What are you, exactly?”

Attack? No. Kuroo would be overpowered. He trusts his instincts, and they’re telling him to run. He stares tiredly over at Tsukishima and ambles to his feet, careful to keep his muscles loose and relaxed. Wouldn’t help to look like prey; sometimes, acting defensive triggers an offensive reaction and that would be bad.

“Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing.” He leans back against the tree and puts his hands in his hoodie pockets. “You new around here?”

Tsukishima’s eyes light up—he’s entertained. That makes one of them, at least. 

“Oh,” he says airily, “just checking out the city, looking for a certain something. It’s quite cute here. Quaint. You have a nice little setup here, don’t you?” His eyes roam over Kuroo. “I would hate for anything to happen to it.”

Damn it, Kuroo really wants to start a fight. He’s tired, he’s angry, he just…he just wants to live a normal, happy life with his boyfriends. He’s really taken the last year for granted, hasn’t he?

“That would be a shame,” he agrees, voice smooth. How should he play this? “You know, I always did like playing with my food.”

Tsukishima really seems to enjoy that. He leans in, eyes wider than before. “Oh, do you? You must be a vampire, then, hmm? And a handsome one, at that. You know, I used to hunt things like you. I truly understand; the fear gives them a certain…sweetness, doesn’t it?”

Well this just keeps getting worse and worse. “It’s simple chemistry,” he says instead of outright agreeing. He’s really trying to keep this ambiguous. It doesn’t matter what the situation is, he’s not going to directly refer to his boyfriends as food. He just…that’s a line he doesn’t want to cross. Especially not considering the very reason why he’s out here, upset in the forest, in the first place.

“You like it so much, why don’t you feed a little?” Tsukishima tilts his neck to the side, and Kuroo freezes.

This just got way out of hand. Kuroo stares at that creamy, pale neck, and suddenly realises all too well the situation he’s in. Tsukishima can use magic, most likely one that operates best at a close range.

“Don’t be difficult,” Tsukishima chides. His smile becomes tight. The second Kuroo takes a step back, ready to just fuck it all and flee, Tsukishima’s grin becomes lecherous. “ _No._ ”

Suddenly, Kuroo’s limbs lock. His eyes widen.

This is exactly like what Akaashi did that halloween. 

Tsukishima walks closer and hums pleasantly. It sounds shivers down Kuroo’s spine.

“Take off your shirt.” 

Kuroo doesn’t even think about it, and suddenly his shirt is off.

“Oh,” Tsukishima hums, tracing lines over Kuroo’s bare shoulder. “You know, I was just going to use you to kill time but you’ve turned out to be so much more fun than I thought.” He pauses. “I never answered your question, did I?”

Kuroo just stares at him. His body won’t let him do anything else. Everything is totally out of his hands now. Tsukishima leans in and lets his face hover right over the crook of Kuroo’s neck, one hand on Kuroo’s bicep and the other on his wrist. 

“I’m not really much of anything these days,” Tsukishima continues. “I was an angel, once, though I’m sure you figured as such. I fell long before my brother. Now, though, now I am something else entirely. You see, my dear vampire hunter, when you live as long as I have, things stop…satisfying you.”

He perks up. “It seems we won’t get much time together today. That’s alright. Although…I can feel the uncertainty in your skin. Are they angry with you over something? If they barely want you now, imagine if they heard how you were speaking of them today.” He presses his lips to Kuroo’s ear and whispers, “should I tell them how you play with your food?”

Kuroo screams at his body to move, but it just. Won’t. 

“Should I lie? I can just take you with me, you know. You’ll do anything I say at this point. They might even think we planned this all along.”

They wouldn’t believe that. And not in the sad, pitiful ‘they wouldn’t do that to me’ way. Akaashi’s smart, and so are Oikawa and Bokuto. He trusts them more than anything, and he knows they love him even if they let him go. They’d never believe something like that.

Tsukishima frowns. “Wishful thinking. Would it drag my brother out of hiding? You do remind me of him, you know. I bet the two of you would be close if you knew each other.” He sighs and leans back so he can study Kuroo’s expression. “If only your pretty little demon boyfriend had what I was looking for, I could just take you and be on my way.”

Well, it’s not like he can respond. Tsukishima laughs.

“ _You smell sweet._ ”

Suddenly Tsukishima is gone, and seconds later Akaashi bursts through the foliage, eyes wild. When they land on Kuroo he gives a strangled sob of relief and runs over, grabbing Kuroo by the shoulders and flinching when the vampire drops to his knees.

“K-Kuroo? I felt magic here and we came as soon as—”

Kuroo can barely make him out. Everything is fuzzy, and there’s a ringing in his ears. He feels like he can’t breathe. Behind him, he can make out a pink blur. Why?

He passes out.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Tsukishima knows something’s wrong and he’s not even at the house. He’s with Oikawa, about to meet up with Iwaizumi and drive him out to the new shop across down. Kunimi’s asleep in the backseat, tired from having magic worked on him all day. 

“And he gave you a…key?” Tsukishima asks, full of doubt. Not that he thinks Oikawa is a liar, but just that batshit crazy things seem to happen to Oikawa and his boyfriends and it’s not out of the realm of possibility that he just…hallucinated it.

Oikawa seems miffed. “Well, it’s not like I asked him to—“ _IIIII’LLLLLL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT, WHAT I REA—_ ”oh, one second, it’s Kou-chan.”

In that moment, Tsukishima suddenly gets a really bad feeling. Shivers run up his spine like fireworks, feeding out across his scalp and making his hair stand up. Every instinct in his body is telling him to get up and leave and get as far away from this town as possible.

Oikawa’s expression goes completely blank. With very controlled motions he hangs up the phone and sets it down and stares at the hood of the car from his seat. Suddenly he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing over the gear shift.

“Wh—hey! Get the hell off of me! What the—hey!”

“Switch seats with me,” Oikawa hisses. “You’re driving back.” Tsukishima glares.

“If you wanted to switch why didn’t you just get out and switch with me then?!” He screeches. And then he pauses.

Oikawa looks _spooked_. 

Tsukishima gets out of his seat, helps Oikawa into the backseat and buckles him in, and then goes over to the driver’s side and hops in. He pulls the car into drive with his foot on the break and sends a quick text to Iwaizumi, then pushes down the parking break and heads back to the house.

Oikawa won’t stop shaking. It gets to the point that he takes a minute or so to unbuckle his seatbelt, and then he’s throwing himself over the middle seat to cling onto Kunimi, breathing in and out slowly. 

What the hell was that phone call about?

It takes them twenty minutes to get home. When Tsukishima pulls up, Iwaizumi’s just landed. Sugawara—Tsukishima grits his teeth, but knows that if someone’s injured Suga’s the best healer to have on hand—is standing there, wings gone and human cloths on, brushing the dust off his pants. He looks up and stares at Tsukishima for a minute through the windshield before turning away and going up the porch steps.

Great. This just keeps getting better and better.

Iwaizumi approaches the drivers side and motions for Tsukishima to roll down the window. “Hey. Don’t worry, Akaashi bewitched him. He won’t be able to find his way back. I don’t know what’s going on yet, but the other pack’s here. Do you mind…” He trails off awkwardly. Tsukishima rolls his eyes.

“We’ll take the back entrance. If you can separate them, that is.” He jerks his head behind him, to where Oikawa has a vice grip on Kunimi. The younger demon looks mildly afraid, and as much as he’s leaning into the hug he’s also cringing from the tightness of that grip. Iwaizumi takes a deep breath and claps Tsukishima on the shoulder. It’s only a little bit comforting. Then he and opens the back door of the car.

“C’mere,” he says. 

Oikawa makes a strangled noise and immediately launches into Iwaizumi’s chest, holding on for dear life. Kunimi’s dragged along for the ride with an alarmed noise, and Iwaizumi crowds them both in with a soothing hum. 

“Sugawara’s here and he’s gonna fix him up, ok? Trust me.”

Oikawa nods into Iwaizumi’s chest and takes a few steady breaths before letting go of Kunimi. Tsukishima gets out of the car and ushers the shorter demon off, leading him away from the front of the house. As he does, he takes a look through the living room window.

He stops and stares.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Kuroo…Kuroo looks pretty messed up. He’s not saying anything, not really reacting to anything either, and his eyes have a terrifying emptiness. Bokuto’s heart hammers in his chest as he flutters his hands over Kuroo’s person, adjusting jacket sleeves and pushing hair out of glazed eyes. He feels totally useless. Behind him stands Akaashi, bright red and fuming.

Off to the side, the pack observes them carefully. Matsukawa has been careful not to intervene too much. Contrasting this solid calmness, Yahaba looks like he’s going to be sick and keeps rubbing at his wrist.

With a deep breath in Bokuto presses his chest against Kuroo’s and lets out a quiet growl, slow and comforting, and then begins carding his hands through Kuroo’s hair. It’s just a little bit, but the vampire leans into the touch. It makes Bokuto want to cry. _He still loves me._

“I can’t believe he did that,” Akaashi hisses. With a staggered stride he wears holes into their living room carpet. “I’m going to kill him!”

“Uh, I mean if it’s him or us, yeah, but can’t we avoid that?” Hanamaki, the pink-haired werewolf, asks slowly. Akaashi whips around.

“I’m _not_ talking about the hunter.”

Oh. Bokuto stares at Akaashi in disbelief, trying to figure out what Kuroo even did wrong, when he realises. Their resident witch isn’t angry, he’s worried. He probably doesn’t know what to do about it.

Well, that’s just going to be figured out later, because Bokuto has a different person to look after currently. Besides, Oikawa is very skilled in the art of handling their moods. Once he arrives he’ll probably help Akaashi sort through things.

With that thought in mind, Bokuto continues to gently plaster himself to Kuroo. He runs his hands over Kuroo’s shoulders and down his arms before massaging one of his hands, and Kuroo lets out a little sigh. It makes Bokuto want to coo. 

Of course he doesn’t like that his boyfriend is hurting, but…he feels warm that Kuroo so quickly trusts him despite being out of it. Especially since the vampire had instinctively shoved Hanamaki away when they first arrived on the scene.

After a couple minutes of silence and soft massages Kuroo finally seems to draw a little bit out of it. He closes his eyes and leans forward just slightly, rocking into Bokuto. The front door opens and Sugawara’s eyes zero in on the vampire as he enters the room; immediately he’s there, hands glowing and expression stilted but calm. Oikawa comes in just as they’re manoeuvring towards the couch to sit down. His eyes are puffy and he immediately stops in the doorway and takes them all in.

“Sit down,” Sugawara commands firmly, his eyes soft. It seems that orders still work on Kuroo, because the vampire robotically sits down next to Bokuto. Sugawara kneels in front of them and begins.

For a split second, Bokuto’s worried that Oikawa will launch himself at their incapacitated boyfriend. However, Oikawa’s skills for analysis are not to be trifled with, because after deciding that Kuroo is safe in Bokuto’s care he strides over to Akaashi.

“Kei-chan,” he says, and squishes Akaashi’s cheeks with his palms, “stop. I can feel you overthinking. This was out of your control.”

“But—“ Akaashi tries, but because his cheeks are squished it comes out more like ‘bwaht’.

Oikawa squints through red-rimmed eyes. He looks mildly irritated. “I’m very sorry you feel worried, Kei-chan, but you can’t blame him for getting caught. Why did he run off, anyway? You guys found him in the woods?”

Akaashi turns briefly so he can catch eyes with Bokuto, and in the second they both glance at Hanamaki and Matsukawa, the demon puts it together. 

He stays very still for a moment before holding onto Akaashi’s cheeks even tighter and letting out a high-pitched noise. It sounds like all the air deflating from a balloon.

“I can’t believe you two!” He cries. “We’re supposed to be communicating better about this kind of thing!” He lets go of Akaashi’s cheeks so he can cross his arms over his chest. “I love you, Kei-chan. So it’s coming from a place of love when I tell you that you need to check yourself.”

Akaashi opens and closes his mouth, staring between all three of his boyfriends in turn, lingering on Kuroo’s prone form, before pressing his lips together and turning his head to the side.

“…Sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. I’m just…stressed.”

Bokuto knows, because he knows Akaashi, that there is an entire realm of emotions trying to be expressed in that one word. He wishes he knew how to understand them better—he’s getting there, he is, but it’s not an overnight process—but that’s why he loves Oikawa so much. The demon just smiles warmly and wraps his arms around the witch, pressing their faces together and exchanging body heat.

“I know.” He whispers. “I know.” Akaashi clings onto him for dear life. Oikawa presses kisses to neck and hair, before slowly drawing away. “Gonna go check on Tetsu-chan now, ok?”

Akaashi nods and doesn’t follow when the demon steps over to the couch, kneeling with watery eyes and cupping Kuroo’s cheek. Heaving a sigh, Bokuto stands and lets Oikawa dote on their boyfriend. He opts to walk over and hold Akaashi’s hand. They watch Sugawara work his magic.

“Let’s give them a minute,” he says quietly. They leave with Matsukawa’s eyes on their backs.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

There are six ways to transport yourself, but he only has access to three when running. It’s…a complicated process, especially when you don’t want to end up leaving behind any limbs. His heart thrums in his chest, rattling like it’s going to tear free. 

This really is what he’s good at. 

He wonders what his friends are up to. He knows that some of them were bound to move on—he can’t get upset about that, not after vanishing without warning—but still. He needs someone in his corner right now. He can’t ask Kenma, he certainly can’t ask any of the angels, which leaves…

Ugh. That feels like getting into trouble rather than escaping it. Then a gunshot tears through the forest and the tree he just leapt past explodes, wood slivers shooting through the air like needles. A couple embed themselves into his shoulder and he grunts and keeps running. Looks like he has no choice. Besides, it’s not too close to where Kenma was before, so it shouldn’t attract the wrong kind of attention to the investigation business. 

He digs a soft black rock out from his pocket and slides a couple feet in the mud, swearing under his breath as he clambers back to his feet and continues the escape.

“GET BACK HERE—“ A voice bellows in the distance. He grimaces and really hopes that the cafe is still open.

_I wonder if Kenma’s been found yet._

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Kuroo remains out of it for the next two days, during which Oikawa has spent the majority of the time glued to his side. The two have practically become inseparable, Oikawa is _always_ there, and to make matters worse, both Kunimi and Tsukishima are there to fill the gap when he’s not. It’s obviously on purpose, but this is just ridiculous.

Speaking of which. Akaashi peels his jacket off and hangs it by the front door, toeing off his nice leather shoes. He steps into the living room cautiously, only to find Iwaizumi nearby in the kitchen. The angel glances over his shoulder and smiles.

“You have ten minutes,” he says. Akaashi freezes.

“…excuse me?”

“Ten minutes,” Iwaizumi says casually. He flips the eggs in the pan over. “Tooru’s out with Kunimi at the orchard, and Tsukishima just left to have his bi-monthly meeting with the other angels. I’d say you ha—“

Akaashi doesn’t even wait before booking it up the stairs to Oikawa’s bedroom. The curtains are drawn but they’re a light grey, so it really doesn’t do much about the brightness. Kuroo is smothered in pillows and blankets, staring up at the skylight with a tired expression. Akaashi really doesn’t know how to start this. He just…he just wants everything to be ok again.

“Still feeling tired?” He asks. It’s, quite frankly, a stupid question. Kuroo grins, but it’s shallow.

“My head’s clear now. Sleeping is hard though.”

Not a surprise. Body-control magic as a habit of leaving an unsettled imprint on the mind, making it difficult to sleep. But it shouldn’t last this long. However…

Akaashi carefully kneels on the side of the bed and leans over the vampire.

“When was the last time you drank?”

Kuroo doesn’t look him in the eye. “I had some in the morning.” Well, that’s not too—“The day it happened.”

Oh. Oh, no.

“Tetsurou,” Akaashi groans, burying his face into his hands. Kuroo stares at him, not processing. It looks like it didn’t even occur to him that he hadn’t fed in so long, and Akaashi realises at that moment that they were far too inattentive to their vampire’s needs. They hadn’t even questioned it, even though Kuroo was obviously in a state where he couldn’t ask for it himself.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a moment’s hesitation. “I’m sorry, we should have noticed. Do you want to…”

Kuroo looks conflicted. Why? Does he not like—

“Are you sure that’s ok?” He asks quietly. Akaashi stops.

“Yes? If it wasn’t ok, I wouldn’t have offered.”

“It’s—you still—you—“ Kuroo suddenly turns bright red, as if he just realised something. He covers his mouth with his forearm, totally embarrassed, and it’s a really flattering look on him. It makes Akaashi feel a little smug, even if he doesn’t know quite what caused it. “You don’t care?”

“Of course I don’t. I love you,” Akaashi grins, before he also realises and turns red. “I called you by your first name.”

They stare at each other for a moment, eyes wide and curious as they search each other out, and this is what Akaashi’s been missing. He grins and leans down, pressing his mouth gently to Kuroo’s. 

“I’m in love with you. All of you. We still have a lot to talk about, and I owe you an apology. But, for now: I trust you. So…” He pulls the collar of his shirt away and moves so that his neck is in line with Kuroo’s mouth. Kuroo lets out a shaky breath, heat curling into Akaashi’s skin and raising goosebumps. His lips press softly into Akaashi’s neck, followed by pinpricks.

Damn it all if it doesn’t feel good though. Akaashi settles more firmly into Kuroo’s lap, letting their chests press together as his arms go boneless. It’s less than two minutes before Kuroo’s withdrawing, face flushed a much healthier hue, and Akaashi feels arms wrap around him and roll him onto his side.

“Thanks,” Kuroo says quietly. That slight tension is back, the one that puts a grimace on Kuroo’s face. Akaashi sluggishly kisses the corner of it. 

“Now for the talking,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry. It was my idea to lie to the pack. I just—I wanted to tell you earlier, I did, but there was never a good time. I let there never be a good time. And…it was cowardly of me, but I chose the easier option instead of the better one. And I’m sorry. I wish I hadn’t.” He shifts forward so that he can cradle Kuroo’s head to his chest. “I love you just the way you are. It was wrong of me to lie about your identity, especially in this situation.”

“So you really don’t…?”

“I don’t care that you’re a vampire,” Akaashi affirms. He didn’t realise Kuroo was so insecure about this. “Neither does Koutarou or Tooru.”

“Yeah, but…” Kuroo sighs. “Sorry. I know that, I really do. I just…you know, Bo would never choose having a pack over being with us. With being with me. But I hate the idea that he’s in that position at all, especially because of me.”

For a beat, Akaashi processes what Kuroo said. Just as he’s about to respond Oikawa bursts through the door.

“Tet—wait…Kei-chan?” He pulls to a stop just inside the doorway, looking surprised. He glances between them for a couple seconds before sagging down. He looks tired. He rolls his jean jacket off his shoulders and abandons it on the floor, flopping down on the bed with a leap and a bounce. “I’m tired.”

“Same,” Kuroo groans the same time Akaashi coos and rubs Oikawa’s hair. Oikawa turns his head towards them.

“Are you guys good now?” He asks. He sounds young. It occurs to Akaashi right then that maybe the whole ‘don’t-leave-me-alone-with-them issue wasn’t Oikawa being protective of Kuroo. Maybe it was Kuroo genuinely trying to give himself space during a time when he was vulnerable and hurting. With of a wave of compassion, Akaashi makes another noise in the back of his throat and pulls them both closer.

“We’re good,” he says finally. “Thank you.”

Oikawa just smiles.

 

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

 

“Ah,” Hanamaki pauses from where he’s heading out of the house. He’s just down the porch steps when he notices the flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. Matsukawa bumps into his back.

“Hm?” 

Hanamaki points. “Over there.” He approaches slowly, and when he gets close enough he catches the eyes of a skinny—teenager? Not older than twenty, at least. Probably younger though. He’s lanky, with dark brown hair and darker eyes and skin that’s almost translucently white. He watches them carefully. _This must be the demon Yahaba met in the woods. Kunimi._

“Hey,” Hanamaki says, trying to make his voice sound gentle. The young demon doesn’t react, his large eyes watching Hanamaki’s every movement. He’s not wearing much for the weather—two jackets and some joggers and black sneakers—and it makes Hanamaki want to bundle him up.

“Ehhh,” Matsukawa drawls, pressing himself to Hanamaki’s back and staring across at the kid. “You’re Kunimi-chan, right?”

The little demon, Kunimi, doesn’t respond. He stays where he is, rooted on the path leading to the side of the house. 

“Do you eat enough?” Hanamaki asks. Kunimi doesn’t say anything. He looks like a startled deer and Hanamaki feels the urge to ruffle his hair and pinch his cheeks, give him a little bit of a hard time. “You know, we don’t bite.”

Ah, there’s a reaction. Kunimi’s eyes flicker uncertainly down to Hanamaki’s mouth—specifically his teeth, he’s always had a toothy smile—before the demon looks away with flushed cheeks. What an amusing reaction. 

“Hey, do you care if we get a look at the mirror? We’re pretty old for werewolves, so maybe we’ll be able to find whatever Yahaba and y’all have been missing.”

Kunimi looks between them both uncertainly before nodding. God, Hanamaki just wants to wrap the kid up and protect him from the world. He looks too weary and tired for someone his age. Are Bokuto and the others not taking good care of him or something? Or is this a long-standing issue?

“I’ll text Bokuto and let him know where we all are,” Matsukawa says. Better to let the other know than to be caught unawares on someone else’s territory. Once that’s done he shoves his hands in his pockets, elbow looped in Hanamaki’s, and waits. Kunimi still looks ready to bolt.

Well, that just won’t do. Hanamaki wraps his free arm around Kunimi’s shoulders and pulls him into the forest.

“Ok,” he says, “what direction? Just point us the right way.”

Kunimi hesitates. “It doesn’t…work that way.”

Matsukawa and Hanamaki exchange a glance.

“What doesn’t work that way?” Hanamaki asks. Kunimi stares down at his feet as they shuffle forward.

“The mirror…you don’t find it. More like, it finds you.”

Well, that’s…unsettling. Hanamaki’s glad that he’s got Matsukawa with him, a warm weight at his side. Kunimi keeps his eyes on the forest floor as they get deeper inside, and Hanamaki can only barely hear the quiet lull of Oikawa’s voice as he and Kuroo finally talk to the witch. Soon the background noise is completely gone, swallowed up by the underbrush.

Out of everyone in the back, Hanamaki is the one who has a stellar sense of direction. But right now he has no fucking idea where they are.

They’ve only been walking for a couple minutes in a straight line, but he feels like if he turns around he won’t be able to find his way back. The sky begins to darken, which is odd seeing as it should be the early afternoon, and then suddenly he realises that he’s no longer with the other two.

What?

“Huh?” He pauses, stopping and looking around. The woods are totally still. Holly is springing out from the sides of the path, and he feels his feet edging forward of their own volition. Ever-so-quietly he makes his way forward, careful to check the pack sigil painted on his hand and make sure there’s no magic at work here. There isn’t.

Then he sees it. 

It’s at the other end of a clearing, but the whole thing is covered in dead holly. When he steps closer to it the leaves crunch loudly. He winces. Then he hears a motion from the back and to the right, and he stops.

Kunimi is standing there, staring at the mirror. His eyes are wide and glowing. He’s moves until he’s closer to it than Hanamaki is, probably less than two steps away. Something in Hanamaki tells him that he should do something, and he should do it now.

Just as Kunimi reaches out to touch it, Hanamaki grabs his wrist. He doesn’t do it in time; Kunimi’s fingertips brush the surface, and suddenly everything goes black.

Seconds later Matsukawa bursts into the clearing, but he’s too late.

They’re gone.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“I don’t understand,” Tsukishima growls. He’s sitting at a table inside the usual cafe, Daichi and Sugawara sitting across from him. The two exchange glances.

“It’s hard to explain,” Daichi says. “It’s a little personal.”

“Then explain it,” Tsukishima says as he grinds his teeth together. God, these idiots are giving him a headache. Trust angels to dodge the point of everything and skip over all the important parts. He clenches his fists.

Sugawara clears his throat. “She didn’t tell us why she left. She said that she couldn’t explain, and that she would be back as soon as she could.” He looks down at his hands. “Our guess is that she found whatever was bothering you and decided to investigate.”

Damn it. Kiyoko was the only one Tsukishima actually liked, the only one who had never looked at him like he was some—some sort of monster. He takes deep breaths in and out through his nose and blinks slowly to keep his temper in check. Then he asks, “did she leave you anything?”

A pause. “Yes, but it’s not an actual lead.” Sugawara slides a folded piece of paper across the table.

Tsukishima picks it up. 

_Don’t touch the mirror._

Well, shit. Why not? 

“We haven’t actually seen it in person,” Daichi says, “but we both think it’s best if you don’t get near it for a whi—“

“Fuck you,” Tsukishima hisses. His chair squeals as he stands abruptly. “Fuck you for thinking you can tell me what to do!” A couple patrons glance his way. “Fuck you for thinking you can just waltz back into my life and try to control me!” He scoffs. “I’m done here. I didn’t come for your help, I came for hers. Thanks for fucking nothing.”

He shoves the table back a couple inches, enough to bump into the angels’ chests, as he steps around it to leave. He’s already out the door by the time Daichi’s calling his name, but it takes them until he’s walking down the sidewalk to catch up with him. A strong hand wraps around his wrist and he tries to jerk it away, only to fail. He whips around. “Let me the f—“

He stops.

Sugawara stands there, panting from running to catch up, eyes blazing. He pokes the index finger of his free hand into Tsukishima’s chest and steps forward.

“We’re trying to keep you safe, you selfish asshole!” He yells. “You think I don’t have other things I want to be doing? But I’m still here, trying to help you, even though you obviously don’t care enough to listen to me!”

Tsukishima’s fury begins to boil over. “How DARE you! When you’re the one who looks at me like I’m scum, like I’m nothing, constantly—“

“How am I supposed to act, cheerful?! Every time you see us you look like you want to die! Why would I look happy to see someone like that?!”

“I wouldn’t act like that if you didn’t act like my very existence was disgusting! You don’t care about me, you hate demons! You hate them! You turned your back on me!”

“ _Stop beating it over my head!_ ” Sugawara shouts, his hands retreating to his sides and balling into fists. “Stop! I get it! I was _wrong_ , and I’ve been sorry about it ever since! I apologised to everyone for it, I keep trying to make things right, and I—“

“You apologised to everyone else,” Tsukishima interrupts. Sugawara stops, mostly because of how damn tired the demon looks. 

“What?”

“You apologised to everyone else,” he repeats. He looks down. “But you never apologised to _me_.”

Sugawara’s mouth opens, and then closes again. He peeks up, trying to get a good look at Tsukishima’s face, eyes widened in surprise and eyebrows raised. 

“I didn’t think you wanted it,” he says finally. 

“Why would I not—“

“Because,” Sugawara interrupts harshly, “you wouldn’t even look me in the eye. I figured you felt things were past apologies.”

Tsukishima lets out an angry scoff and folds his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. “Oh, so it’s my fault you decided not to apologise?”

Sugawara throws his hands up in exasperation. “I didn’t mean it like—“

“I’m not asking for you to change the past!” Tsukishima screeches, before reeling it back in when they get a few very concerned looks from some dog walkers. “I’m asking for an apology! God damn, I shouldn’t have to pull your teeth to get one! Fuck you! This is why all you fucking angels suck, you never admit it when you’re wrong! It’s always, ‘it can’t be helped’, and ‘nothing would change’. I know nothing would change! It’s just a fucking apology, is that so hard to give to me?! Fuck you! Stay the fuck away from me!”

Sugawara opens his mouth to say something else, his eyes never straying from Tsukishima’s face, but it’s too late. Tsukishima’s in the middle of town, and he gives himself a split second to make sure no one’s watching before he’s ripping his heart out and throwing it on the pavement.

 

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

It’s snowing when Oikawa goes outside. Kuroo is resting in bed with Akaashi and Bokuto, having an extremely necessary conversation, and as much as Oikawa believes in communication that’s a conversation that’s probably best done without him. He wants to give them some space.

He wanders aimlessly around the yard before finally stepping into the forest. It’s chilly, and when he reaches into his pocket to grab his gloves he feels something cold and metal.

_What…?_

Oh. The key. Oikawa stares at it, wondering what it could possibly mean. 

“K for Kenma?” He asks himself, scoffing. What a stupid thing to assume. He rolls it around his palm, getting used to the weight. It leaves a nasty trail of rust. “K for…for Kozume?” Damn it. He really has no idea what to make of this.

He stops when his gut tugs and whips to the side. A clearing is just visible from where he stands, and he picks his way through the holly to get to it. 

The mirror. It stands there, foreboding as ever, and Oikawa bites his lip. It looks stranger than before…darker. Distorted. It still doesn’t give a reflection.

He shoves his hands into his pockets and approaches it hesitantly. Kicks at the bottom a little with his shoe.

“Please don’t do that,” Matsukawa croaks, followed by a screech of “what the FUCK!” from Oikawa as he spins around in shock.

“Y-you!” He cries, throwing out a pointer finger towards where Matsukawa is leaning against a tree, staring at the mirror. “Don’t scare me like that, Jesus Christ! There’s a madman on the loose!”

Matsukawa stares at him like he’s some kind of two-headed dog, wrought with both wonder and fear and tired exasperation. He nods his head towards the mirror. “Don’t—don’t kick it.” Then, under his breath, “or fucking do it, I don’t care.”

Well, well. 

“What’s got you in a mood?” Oikawa asks curiously, crossing his arms over his chest. The shoulders of his jean jacket are tight and accentuate his biceps; he’d know, he bought it for that reason. The hood of his under jacket is up, but his bangs sweep elegantly around it. Matsukawa stares at those bangs for a minute before looking back at the mirror.

“Makki and I wanted to see it,” he says. Oikawa doesn’t have to ask what he means. “We saw the little one—the little demon, Kunimi—so we thought we’d ask him to show us. He touched the mirror, and then—and then they were gone. Both of them.”

“You mean, like…Kunimi-chan took them somewhere?”

“They went into the mirror,” Matsukawa whispers. He looks pale. 

Oikawa stares at the mirror dubiously, approaching it head on. Within seconds Matsukawa’s on his feet, an arm hooking around Oikawa’s waist and yanking him back. Oikawa stumbles before wrenching himself free and whipping around.

“Calm down, I’m not an idiot,” he growls. “I’m not going to touch it.”

He had sort of planned on touching it.

Matsukawa seems to sense this, because he stays in Oikawa’s space bubble regardless. One of his eyebrows flicks up and he drawls, “you’re not a very convincing liar.”

“Yeah, well, whatever.”

“It was a compliment.”

Oikawa eyes the werewolf for a second before turning back to the mirror. “Yeah, well,” he repeats, “whatever. How did they disappear? Did they flicker? Or just sort of like…vanish?”

Matsukawa shakes his head. “I don’t know. I was turning around a group of trees. I was right after them, running, because we’d gotten separated somehow. Maybe the mirror has some sort of protective magic on it or something. And—I don’t know, I saw Kunimi reaching out towards it, I passed the group of trees, and they were gone.”

“Into the mirror?”

“Into the mirror.”

Oikawa pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re—you’re totally sure?”

Matsukawa stares at him. “Please stop making me repeat myself,” he says. Oikawa glares at him from over the shoulder and firmly plants himself in front of the mirror, just inches away from the surface.

“Ok,” he says. “Ok, I’m gonna touch the mirror, and you’re going to hold onto that tree with one hand and me with the other.”

Matsukawa looks comically between Oikawa and the referenced tree branch before laughing. 

“That is the stupidest idea I have ever heard.”

“Do you have another one?”

The watch each other, gaging comparative braveries, before Matsukawa sags a little. 

“You’re serious about this?” He asks. “Aren’t you supposed to be some ridiculously smart, powerful demon? This seems a little…”

“Again, I’m still not hearing any better ideas,” Oikawa snarks. “There’s a limit to power, you know. I can’t just snap my fingers and make all your problems go away.”

Matsukawa looks between them and the mirror one last time before grabbing onto Oikawa’s hand with his right and the branch with his left. His jacket lifts off of his waist from the stretch and he shivers as cold air hits his spine. Oikawa swallows, his eyes shifting to a reddish brown glow as he steels himself.

His hand makes a little patting noise when it hits the glass. Nothing happens. Oikawa grunts, hitting at it again, and suddenly he’s being _pulled_ and Matsukawa’s grip on his wrist quickly becomes a shoulder-popping force as Oikawa’s entire body gets yanked into the mirror. Matsukawa swears, adjusting his hold ever-so-slightly and growling low and terrifying from the force of his exertion. Oikawa thinks he can feel his arm going numb.

The fucking tree branch snaps off, and suddenly the pair are hurtling through the mirror. Instinctively, Matsukawa grabs Oikawa as they tumble and as soon as they roll to a stop he pulls them both to their feet. He moves around until his back meets a solid surface, eyes watching out for any hidden enemies.

“This doesn’t smell right,” he says, shouldering in front of Oikawa and crouching low to the ground. The mirror is gone—the leap they took was a one-way, it seems. Oikawa kicks at the ground and realises he’s standing on pavement. 

“Wait,” he says before Matsukawa transforms. He glances around. “Wait, we don’t want to draw any…unwanted attention. And what the heck did you push around me for? I’m probably more powerful than you right now.”

Surprisingly enough, Matsukawa takes this information to heart and doesn’t question it. He immediately shuffles to his feet, adjusting his jacket and sending long looks in either direction. No one’s around.

“How’s your arm?” He asks. Oikawa rolls it experimentally and winces.

“I’ll live,” he says. “What do you think we should do? Scope out, or find the others?”

Matsukawa stares at him. “Uh, isn’t the whole point of this to get them back?” There’s a protective edge in his voice that makes Oikawa feel defensive. He crosses his arms and glares back in return. 

“Of course we’re not leaving without them. What I meant, because this is not a totalitarian party of two, is that I wanted your opinion on if you think time is an issue. Do you think they’re hurt? No one’s around this leg of the area.” He glances around. “It might be better to figure out where we are first, is all I’m saying.”

It’s true; it’s almost like an otherworldly ghost town here. Matsukawa frowns. 

“I don’t think they’re in immediate danger,” he says. He has a feeling that’s what Oikawa wanted him to say. “We should scope out a little bit first. Make sure we’re not jumping into some sort of trap.”

Oikawa grins, sharp and dangerous. His eyes are a violent red.

“Well, then, Matsu-chan,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Matsukawa pauses to double-check that they’re not being watched before following behind Oikawa’s steps. He thinks about it for a second before answering:

“Call me Matssun.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Kuroo wakes up, mind still a little bit fuzzy, pressed into the bed by two heavy bodies. He’s careful not to make any noise as he blinks himself to full consciousness, glancing out the window. It’s nighttime, but he can feel something in his gut that’s telling him he needs to get up, so he does. He drapes the comforter over Bokuto and Akaashi, who roll closer to each other in his absence.

Well, his favourite layering hoodie is gone, which means that Oikawa’s probably out and about somewhere. He steps out of the room and makes his way down the stairs to the kitchen, where Iwaizumi’s sitting and reading a book.

“Uh, hey.” Kuroo raises a hand in lazy salutation and grabs a slice of apple pie from the container on the stovetop. Iwaizumi grunts and doesn’t look up from his book. He gets like that, sometimes, when he’s at a good part. It’s kind of nice, actually. Reminds Kuroo of Kenma.

Since obviously nothing is happening around the house, Kuroo guesses it must have something to do with the outside.

Oikawa is gone, the wolves are gone, Tsukishima is gone, Akaashi and Bo are asleep…

“Yo, ‘waizumi, are you almost to the end of the chapter?”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“I hate you,” Iwaizumi grumbles as they plod their way through the woods. This seems to be a reoccurring theme in Kuroo’s life. They should move closer to the city or something.

Kuroo adjusts the straps of his torn black backpack and clicks a flashlight on. The snow glints like diamonds in the light. “I just have a feeling, ok? And I still have some sense of preservation.”

“You brought me in case there’s a fight?” Iwaizumi asks in disbelief. Kuroo flashes him a grin.

“I brought you here for eye candy.”

Iwaizumi punches Kuroo in the shoulder and it actually makes the vampire stumble. He grins, laughing quietly to himself, before adjusting his fleece further around him. Damn Oikawa for always stealing everyone’s cloths. Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow at him.

“You know, I haven’t asked yet.”

Ah, yes. “I know,” Kuroo nods. “You haven’t. You’ve been very patient. Do you want a pat on the back?”

Iwaizumi glares daggers. “You looking for a fight?”

“Sorry, sorry~ Without Kenma around to backtalk me I’ve been getting a little out of touch with my sarcasm.” A pause. “They apologised. I accepted. We still have some stuff to figure out, with the pack, but…we’re working on it.”

“Good.” The seriousness of Iwaizumi’s tone makes Kuroo turn in surprise. Iwaizumi meets his gaze steadily. “I was worried about you. Take care of yourself, man. And if you need me to punch some sense into any of them just say the word.”

Kuroo barks out a laugh. “Are you—are you getting _protective_ of me?” When Iwaizumi blushes Kuroo can’t help it, cackling wholeheartedly and wrapping an arm around the angel’s shoulders. “Thanks. I appreciate it. Now let’s go find ourselves a monster, shall we?”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “I’d hardly call your ‘bad feeling’ a beacon for monsters,” he grumbles. They stumble their way through the snow-covered forest, their boots crunching into the thin sheet of ice that’s layered over the recent snowfall. Things are beginning to freeze, little icicles dangling off of even the smallest branches. 

“Oi,” Iwaizumi tugs on the arm wrapped around him and draws Kuroo’s attention to a little fox poking its way around the mounds of holly off to the side. It peers up at them through wide reddish eyes and sniffs around the ground before darting off. Kuroo watches it until there’s nothing left to see.

Ah. Wait a second. It’s fur wasn’t white, was it?

“Oikawa’s summon?” He surmises. Iwaizumi shrugs.

“It’s usually only around when he’s injured or…elsewhere. To keep an eye on the world he’s not in.”

Kuroo thinks on that for a minute before something clicks. He expands on the idea in his head before drawing Iwaizumi’s attention to it.

“Can he do it instinctively? Or is it something he has to focus on to do?”

Iwaizumi immediately catches on. “You…you think that he got pulled somewhere or something? Maybe ran off to the other world?”

“Something could’ve cornered him,” Kuroo adds. He pulls his arm off Iwaizumi’s shoulders so he can cross them while he thinks some more. “Oikawa’s not really the type to immediately confront something, and his…abilities are more suited to situations where he can play out a strategy. If he felt like he was going to get cornered, he’d probably get out of there pretty quick. Then again…” He frowns. “I can’t think of anything in these woods that would scare him off, aside from Tsukishima. And if it were him, there’s no way Oikawa would risk leaving and letting Tsukishima wander close to the house. So it’s probably that he either randomly decided to hitchhike across the dimension, or—“

“—something pulled him by force,” Iwaizumi nods. “Ok, I’ll bite. What do you think it was?”

Kuroo puts his hands on his hips. “Seeing as it’s the only real thing in this forest that we’ve run into which can’t be explained, I’m gonna go with the mirror. He hasn’t touched it yet, right? He told me he gets a weird feeling whenever he thinks about touching it. Maybe he did, and it dragged him somewhere?”

“You really don’t think Tsukishima has something to do with this?”

“Nah, kidnapping’s not his style. At least, not right now.” Kuroo frowns. “I’m not sure how to find the mirror, though. Usually one of the demons does.”

They both share a look. There’s only one demon they know of that’s just a phone call away.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

When Bokuto blinks awake, the morning light of the sun is piercing through Oikawa’s curtains and throwing the room into brightness. Curled up beside him is Akaashi, hair ruffled and complexion a lot healthier than it was twelve hours ago. The wonders of getting enough sleep.

With a great big yawn Bokuto throws the covers off of himself, peeling Akaashi’s hand off of his thigh, and yanks on the closest sweatshirt—one of his own, from when he visited the states. He stretches out, makes sure his boxers aren’t too revealing for Kunimi’s innocent eyes, and hops down the stairs to see what the others are up to.

Except…there aren’t any others. Bokuto frowns. Did everyone go out? No, their scents are old. In fact, they’re freshest by the door, which means whenever they left was a while ago, and they haven’t returned since. Kunimi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki’s are the oldest. Closing his eyes, he can tell that those trails lead into the woods, but it’s harder to tell more than that through the fresh foot-layer of snow.

What’s more disconcerting is that he can smell a hint of Kuroo’s Bad Feeling. It’s sort of weird, but Bokuto thinks it might be part of being a vampire and a hunter for so long, because sometimes Kuroo just gets these _feelings_ , like something needs his attention. Intuition, but intuition that’s been honed for years of experience and hardship. Less magical than Akaashi’s premonitions, but still a force to be respected.

Iwaizumi’s clean scent follows Kuroo’s from around the same time, so they must have left together. That’s relieving. 

Well, he trusts all of them to call if they need anything. Plus, checking at his phone, it looks like Matssun and Makki are out with Kunimi, so at least that’s something. If anything too serious happens to them Bokuto will feel it in their technically-incomplete pack bond, so he’s not too concerned. Instead he jogs back up the stairs so he can pull on some sweatpants and tie his hair back in a half-bun.

“Babe,” he mutters, leaning down to kiss Akaashi’s cheek. The witch grumbles. “Babe, I’m gonna go to the cafe and get some of those coffee drinks and stuff. Wanna come?”

“Where’re the others?” Akaashi croaks. He sits up, eyes not yet ready to open.

“Out monster hunting probably,” Bokuto says. Akaashi wrinkles his nose.

“Are…are you joking?”

“Not sure,” Bokuto answers honestly. “All their scents are gone after last night. I think they’re hunting something in the woods.”

“But they’re—“

“Babe,” Bokuto hums, dropping into Akaashi’s lap so he can cup the witch’s face. “Remember? We both felt when Tetsu got—whatever it is that happened to him. We’d know if they were in deep shit. So let’s just go and get some coffee and maybe make them pancakes or something.”

Akaashi still wants to protest, and the only thing that will really motivate him to get out of bed is to run into the woods and find his makeshift family, but Bokuto’s determined to make this a calm morning for them both. Especially since he has a feeling Kuroo and Oikawa will really need those coffees when they get back. And besides, what would happen if those two had to arrive home to an empty house? Bokuto thinks that would be the worst.

No, they’ll stay. And they’ll have everything perfect for when everyone gets back.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

 

There’s not a lot different in this world than there is in the original, Oikawa surmises. It’s darker here, and there’s a lot more snow. But that seems to be about it. They seem to have been pulled close to Kuroo’s public office. 

For what feels like the past eternity they’ve tried to multitask searching for their missing persons with trying to figure out how to leave after locating said missing persons. They’re both running out of ideas. 

Oikawa ripped his heart out but that didn’t seem to do anything, which means whatever sort of world they’re in, it’s not connected to any others. Maybe its connection to the human realm was shaky at best, and two more unexpected tourists shattered it. Maybe they can’t get back.

For some reason that doesn’t concern Oikawa very much. He thinks it might have to do with the fact that Matsukawa is feeling enough concern for the both of them.

Speaking of. Oikawa eyes the werewolf from the side and raises an eyebrow.

“Quoting Tetsu-chan, you might want to consider chilling the fuck out.”

“Oh, thanks,” Matsukawa rasps dryly. “I hadn’t considered that.” He squats next to an alley wall and tries to breathe slowly. “Sorry. The pack bonds are weird here. I haven’t gone this long without any of them in…a very long time.”

“Ah, yes, the infamous pack,” Oikawa nods. “Tell me about them while we search.”

“I don’t…” Matsukawa sounds unsure, but Oikawa knows from experience that it will help with the heartache. Besides, it’ll keep Matsukawa distracted long enough to allow Oikawa to pull out the key that’s getting progressively heavier throughout this whole ordeal, without getting noticed. 

And so Matsukawa starts talking. The sound of his voice, low and calm, soothes the nerves that gathered in Oikawa’s chest so that he can finally breathe easily again. He talks about all of them—about Hanamaki the most, since they seem to have known each other the longest, but also about finding Yahaba, about getting close enough to the point that Kyoutani started trusting them.

As this is happening, Oikawa turns himself out of Matsukawa’s view and pulls out the key. It looks…different, from before. Bigger. Which is mildly worrisome. It is very possible that Kenma gave him some weird fucked up portal key that will just blip him out of existence. 

Unless…

Unless he knew that the mirror was a one-way trip.

Oikawa’s going to be honest, Kenma isn’t very high up on his list of friends. They’ve spoken, yeah, but it’s almost always been in tense situations, or with a mildly hostile undertone. They’re very different people who happen to have a very close mutual connection.

After running into him, Oikawa was _convinced_ Kenma had sensed that stuff was about to go down and skipped town to avoid whatever shitfest was coming their way. Not concretely, of course, because he knows how possessive Kenma can be of Kuroo, but fleetingly. Kenma hates confrontation, after all. 

But maybe—maybe this isn’t Kenma getting dragged into all of their problems. Maybe it’s the _other way around_. Maybe everything that’s been happening has been years of build-up, and Ushijima’s comeuppance is what set it all off. Maybe, just maybe, Kenma really did leave to protect them.

That has to be what’s going on. It would explain why Kenma gave him the key, at least. He must have known that Oikawa would eventually find this place and need a way out.

Still. What is the mirror doing in the forest to begin with? It hadn’t been there before.

“Up,” he orders, interrupting Matsukawa’s dialogue on Kyoutani’s latest haircut. The werewolf flinches and jumps to his feet.

“You know how to get us out of here?” He asks, brushing invisible dirt off of his jeans. Oikawa nods.

“Maybe. Also, I think I know where our lost ducklings are.” He grins.

He just hopes he’s not wrong.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

 

Kunimi thinks he might actually kill this guy.

“Stop squirming,” Hanamaki commands from behind, then does exactly that so that they’re pressed even closer together. The werewolf sighs, pressing his face into the back of Kunimi’s neck.

“Is this really helping?” Kunimi asks. He’s gotten more used to cuddling now that he’s spent a lot of time around Akaashi and Bokuto, but it’s really weird to do with strangers. Hanamaki’s completely wrapped around him, a dusty blanket tugged over them both, and their breaths puff out white in the chilly air of the cafe they’re in.

The door slams open, rattling as it bounces off the wall and sends dust puffing everywhere, and two sets of footsteps can be picked out. Hanamaki’s grip on Kunimi becomes absolutely suffocating as the wolf growls low and shifts so he’s on top of the demon, ready to spring up off the couch they’re currently on.

“Makki?” Drawls a throaty, low voice, and Kunimi feels relief flood his senses.

“Ah! Kunimi-chan!”

Suddenly Kunimi’s getting dragged out of Hanamaki’s grip and there’s a hand on the back of his hand and the middle of his spine, pulling him into someone’s chest. Oikawa coos and presses their cheeks together.

“Were you scared?” He whines. “Did you miss me? Were you here all alone with the scary werewolf, just waiting for me to—“

“I’m fine.” Kunimi says flatly. He leans into Oikawa’s touch. “What took you so long? Where is this?”

“It look us a while to realise it was an exact copy of our town,” Oikawa shrugs, moving one of his hands up so he can pet the back of Kunimi’s head. The younger demon sighs and presses his freezing nose into the warm skin of Oikawa’s shoulder. “Also, we were trying to find a way out. We’re—we’re not really sure where we are.”

Kunimi thinks about it. Ripping out his heart didn’t work (it also scared the bejesus out of Hanamaki, which instigated the whole…cuddling incident) which probably means that Oikawa has found some other method to escape this place. He doesn’t seem too turned around by this new world.

“Oi,” Matsukawa grunts. He’s currently trying to become one with his packmate, curled around him possessively. It’s hard to take him seriously when his cheek is smooshed against Hanamaki’s. “You just mentioned a way out?”

Oikawa goes to respond when a horrible, shuddering noise echoes through the cafe. They all turn to stare at the front door, which trembles on its hinges. Unconsciously Oikawa makes his way over to the others, standing partway in front of Kunimi. The door creaks open of it’s own accord as both Hanamaki and Matsukawa spin around, and then—

They all stare into the surprised face of Kiyoko Shimizu. 

“What the fuck?” Croaks Oikawa.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“And you’re sure that’s what she said?” Kuroo asks, pinching the bridge of his nose. He leans back against the tree trunk and wishes desperately that he brought snow shoes. And a warmer coat. And a hat. Just, preferably, everything needed to be warm. Tsukishima’s voice buzzes hot and sour in his ear. “Great, thanks. No, it’s fine. They’re not? Ok. Yeah. Yeah. See you.”

Iwaizumi stares at him as he shuts his phone.

“He wasn’t supposed to touch it?”

“He wasn’t supposed to touch it.”

They both groan. “He totally touched it.”

“I mean, there’s nothing we can do about it now,” Kuroo says. “Tsukki’s not close to here so finding the mirror isn’t an option, and I doubt we’re going to—“

He’s cut off when Iwaizumi freezes and then surges forward and clamps his hand over Kuroo’s mouth. Kuroo lets out a muffled yelp as he’s pushed back into the tree he was leaning against, looking mildly terrified as his eyes dart around the forest.

“It’s Kiyoko,” Iwaizumi mutters, sensing his distress. “Sorry, but if you’re not quiet I won’t be able to hear her.”

With a silent sigh of relief Kuroo slumps, batting Iwaizumi’s hand away half-heartedly. He wipes a hand over his face and, when Iwaizumi’s attention refocuses back onto his surroundings, cuts in. 

“What did she say?” He wonders what it’s like to hear someone else’s thoughts.

Iwaizumi shakes his head, “she just said to go back to the house. She’s not really the type to be forward about what she wants.” To be fair, angels aren’t really that sort of type. They’re pretty…they can be difficult to deal with on a regular basis, Kuroo would know. His fun little quartet happened to adopt one of them. “…Oh. I think—it’s possible she found Oikawa and the others.”

“…the others? Who the heck else is missing?”

Iwaizumi shrugs. “Dunno. Guess we’ll have to find out.”

So they trudge back to the house, shoes heavy with packed snow. Iwaizumi keeps side-eyeing him, like he’s not totally sure Kuroo is ok. 

To be fair, being shoved against the tree sort of scared the daylights out of Kuroo, because there happens to be a very nasty hunter running around that he really doesn’t want to encounter again. But still. He can take care of himself. Or at least, he knows when to ask for help when he can’t. 

“I’m fine,” he says to Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow.

“I didn’t say otherwise.”

“You keep staring at me.” Kuroo’s voice is flat. Iwaizumi nods truthfully and looks up at the grey swathe of clouds.

“I guess I’m just surprised. I mean, I knew about you before—from before you all met. Had heard about you. Doesn’t any of this bring up some bad memories?”

Kuroo laughs sourly. “What part? The mind control, or the part where my very existence is stopping my boyfriend’s dream from coming true? Or the part where my best friend is missing and my boyfriend got vaulted into an alternate dimension? Take your pick.”

That was not the right thing to say, but it sort of slipped out. Iwaizumi’s expression tightens.

“I’m just saying,” he says slowly, “that if you can’t tell your boyfriends about something, anything, I’m here. Ok? Don’t be an ass about this.”

Kuroo stops. They’re pretty close to the house, so they need to cut this conversation off soon if they want to avoid being overheard by nosy werewolves with superhearing. 

“You’re really worried, huh?”

“Yeah, asshole.” Iwaizumi folds his thick arms over his chest. “I am.”

Kuroo grins. “Wow, I feel so special~” he purrs, leaning against Iwaizumi’s side and snickering. “For real, though, thanks. For not telling anyone, and for…this. Whatever this is.”

“It’s called caring, dumbass,” Iwaizumi grumbles. There’s a blush spreading over his cheeks, and aw, isn’t that just the sweetest? Kuroo laughs again, lighter this time. They start walking again.

“Thanks,” he says again. 

He hopes Iwaizumi can’t see how badly his hands are shaking.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“Are you, uh…are you ok?” Bokuto asks the patron behind them in line. They decided to skip a drive-thru starbucks in favour of the cafe, which is a decision they now may or may not be regretting. The man behind them looks…interesting.

Ok, he looks dead. His skin is paper-thin, and the bags on his eyes, well. They’re not even realistic looking, they almost look sculpted into the guy’s face. His eyes are a dull yellow, in contrast to his waxy olive skin, and he’s got a shock of long grey hair despite his youth, and is dressed like he’s been doing a survivalist shift in the mountains for five years.

He looks like hell.

“I’m fine.” Wow, he’s got a low voice. Bokuto likes the way it sounds, but also is extremely put off by the appearance. “Just need a shower.”

“You smell like it,” says Bokuto before Akaashi can stop him. The witch has that face he makes when he tries not to face palm, and edges between the pair just in case.

“Sorry for the rudeness,” he says. The man just shrugs. Obviously not a person of many words.

“Oh!” The barista at the counter does a double-take at the man before looking to Bokuto and Akaashi. “Please excuse me, but we were expecting this customer.”

“It’s fine,” Akaashi nods. He sends a curious glance towards the stranger, who shuffles to the front of the line.

“Hey.” He says. The barista stares.

“Uh,” she says. She takes it all in. “Right. Sorry. Um, you’re here to talk to our baker, right?” The man nods, and she looks like she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Bokuto doesn’t blame her. It’s kind of a weird situation. Speaking of weird, Akaashi also seems oddly fascinated. His eyes don’t leave the stranger’s back as he’s led to the employee’s room.

“We should follow them,” Akaashi says. Bokuto grabs onto his hand and stares despairingly at the end of the extremely long line.

“Do we have to?” He allows himself to get tugged along regardless, their palms pressed together the whole time. “Whyyyy?”

They don’t get back in line.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Tsukishima doesn’t know a lot about Legion besides what’s in the Bible. To say that the Bible is a good source of information is just false, especially when it lacks the detail he needs to actually understand the strange darkness lurking inside his chest.

_Don’t touch the mirror._

Fuck. What does Kiyoko know that she’s not telling him?

He shuts his eyes and breathes deeply in through his nose, his hands resting on the cold leather of the dashboard. He hasn’t been home since he met with the angels.

“Why can’t shit just be simple,” he hisses. His heart beats incredibly loudly, filling up the silence. “Fuck. _Fuck._ ”

“If it helps, I understand the sentiment completely.“

Tsukishima whips around on instinct, his nails sharpened into claws as he strikes. A leathery hand grips his wrist so hard he thinks the bone might snap, and suddenly the person in the back of the car is right up between the two front seats, dipping dangerously close to Tsukishima’s personal bubble. Tsukishima makes to scream when another hand digs into his throat and all he’s left with is a pathetic little wheeze.

“Don’t get lonely. We’ll see each other soon enough. I _will_ find him. And then you will be mine.”

Tsukishima gets thrown into the steering wheel by the force of his coughs when the hand vanishes, and he’s alone again in the car. But he—he could’ve sworn he saw—that he saw—

But that’s impossible. It’s—it’s just impossible. It can’t…Tsukishima _knows_ what happened, he knows that there’s no way…

His vision starts to go spotty and suddenly he realises that he’s not breathing. He’s—he’s not _breathing_ , it’s like all of the breath is leaving his lungs and his heart is beating too loudly for him to hear anything and ghosts of those hands still grip his throat as he tries to claw his way back to reality and—

Hands grab him by the biceps and haul him out of the driver’s seat, and suddenly he’s curled up on his side and Hinata’s hovering over him, his skin pale and eyes wide. 

“Kei.” Hinata’s voice is wobbly. Tsukishima squeezes his eyes shut and wills for all of this to just be over. Where is he? What time is it? He can remember Kuroo calling him, but other than that—

“Oi!” Pain blossoms over Tsukishima’s cheek where Kageyama slapped him. “S-snap out of it, bastard!”

Very slowly, Tsukishima manages to find his breath again. His vision starts to clear, and when it does he hastily brings up a hand to adjust his glasses on right. Both the angels are crouched next to him wearing plain street clothing and snow boots. 

“Can I…?” Hinata hesitantly reaches out and Tsukishima flinches before nodding. The angel’s hand connects with the side of Tsukishima’s cheek, the same part of his face that hit the steering wheel the hardest, and suddenly there’s heat as Hinata tries his hand at healing magic. It’s definitely not fully developed, but Tsukishima can’t help but feel proud when he remembers how shitty it was far back.

“Are you ok?” Kageyama asks, peeking over Hinata’s shoulder as though he doesn’t dwarf the other. “You just froze suddenly and started freaking out. We thought maybe you were having some kind of seizure.”

Tsukishima grits. “I don’t know,” he says. He thinks back to the note. He really doesn’t know.

But he intends to find out.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Everyone arrives back at the house at around roughly the same time.

Akaashi and Bokuto, after some very unsuccessful attempts at figuring out what was happening with the weird customer, ended up having to wait thirty minutes in that monstrosity of a line. They are now rewarded with having seven peppermint hot chocolates and a boatload of gingerbread scones (suffice to say that, now that Halloween is over and done with, the corporate Christmas spirit has exploded).

Moments after they settle back into the house Kuroo and Iwaizumi are there, peeling off wet layers of clothing and complaining about the cold and cryptic angels. The pair meet them in the kitchen and immediately accept the drink and scones. Just when Akaashi goes to ask them what they were up to in the forest, the door swings open and they hear a screech of: “I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH ME WITH THAT!” followed by a shriek of pain. 

In seconds Akaashi has magic at his fingertips, hurling himself across the kitchen and to the doorway only to collide with Oikawa. The force of it throws them to the ground, Oikawa letting out yet another wail of pain.

“Kei-chan!” He exclaims, his hands going to the back of his head. Akaashi scrambles to his feet and helps his boyfriend up, then immediately drags him into a tight hug.

“You’re—everyone’s ok,” he breathes. “Everyone’s ok. I’m so glad.” 

Oikawa freezes up in surprise before returning the hug. “Sorry,” he mumbles into Akaashi’s shoulder. “I didn’t realise what I was getting into.” 

“Didn’t—“ Akaashi sits on this for a couple seconds. Then he backs up and slaps Oikawa on the back of the head. “Be more careful!” He chides. “We’re a team. So next time, call us first!”

Oikawa is about to respond when he jerks violently into Akaashi’s elbow and swears. Akaashi looks over his shoulder to see a smug Hanamaki with a cross in his hand.

“Oikawa, you…” Akaashi tries to process this. “You can’t touch crosses?” He stares and wonders how the hell he had ever managed to convince this poor boy to set foot in a church. If that’s not love, Akaashi doesn’t know what is.

Hanamaki grins. “Naw, he can, just not ones that have been worn by a prie—“

“—STOP POKING ME YOU BRUTE!” Oikawa screeches, flipping around out of Akaashi’s arms and tackling the werewolf, who lets out a sharp bout of laughter. They end up on the ground, rolling around fighting.

Kunimi steps around them. 

“They’ve been like this the whole morning.” He says. He does not look happy about it.

Matsukawa is the second to muddle over to the kitchen, and the absence of his bulky frame leaves Kiyoko Shimizu, an angel from Tsukishima’s old flock. She looks tired and pale, but for some reason when she finally steps through the door she takes a sigh of relief.

“I asked Shouyou and Tobio to find Kei-kun and bring him here,” she tells Akaashi as she pulls off her boots. “Once they arrive I will explain what I can.”

“Kei said you were going to look into any abnormalities for him. I assume that it’s the mirror you’re here to talk about?”

Kiyoko smiles, and it’s nice but a little empty. “I will explain.”

Ah, yes. How annoyingly vague that is. Akaashi bites back any rudeness in favour of a nod and a gesture to the doorway. She steps over Hanamaki and Oikawa, who are still locked in a wrestling match. Akaashi kicks Oikawa in the shin.

“There’s hot chocolate in the kitchen,” he says. Neither of them pay him any mind. 

“We have scones,” he tries. Nothing. They nearly run into him when Hanamaki flips the tables—literally and figuratively.

“…Kuroo will make you waffles.”

Immediately Oikawa is up and running to the kitchen, Hanamaki grumbling as he hurries after. Akaashi rolls his eyes. They’re lucky he doesn’t make them eat his dank chicken. He bends down to put everyone’s shoes on the shoe rack and check that the door’s unlocked before moving back into the kitchen.

It’s…homey. Kuroo, who is muttering “when did I sign up for this” under his breath, currently has Oikawa and Hanamaki draped over him, hounding him to make them waffles. Bokuto has Kunimi trapped in a bear hug while Matsukawa grabs them all napkins. Having picked up his book again, Iwaizumi flips open the cover and sips from a mug as he settles in on a stool. The only one out of place is Kiyoko, who stands near the living room with her arms wrapped around her upper body.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Akaashi asks her, leaning against the back of the couch and watching his boyfriends fondly. Kiyoko nods uncertainly.

“It’s hard to imagine Kei-kun being a part of this,” she says honestly. “He seems weary when I see him.”

Akaashi knows he shouldn’t get angry, especially since Tsukishima can take care of himself and would _not_ appreciate that brand of support, but it’s hard. He’s seen how Sugawara treats the kid. Kiyoko has let that treatment stand, and that’s just…

“It’s not hard for me to understand why,” he settles for. It’s the truth, at least.

Kiyoko nods. “We haven’t done right by him,” she admits. “They tried very hard. Sometimes…the circumstances are too much.”

“There’s no excuse for the way he’s treated by them.”

“There isn’t.” She nods. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t a reason for it.”

With that, she turns away. 

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

 

Tsukishima doesn’t know how he feels about this. About…taking them to the house.

For him, that’s always been a safe place. None of the angels knew where it was, save Iwaizumi (and possibly Daichi), and he could always go there for a bed or food or just to _escape_. Once he takes them to the house, they’ll know where to find him. He won’t be able to avoid them.

Biting his lip, he pulls the car down the gravel side road and tries not to make it obvious how on edge he is. It doesn’t seem like it’s working. He makes a swift left and pulls into the mile-long driveway, and suddenly the house peeks into view. 

“Oh,” Hinata says, and then nothing else. Tsukishima feels irritation start to bubble up.

“Oh?”

“I mean…oh,” Hinata stares out the window. “I-It just looks normal, okay?”

“Did you think I’d be living in some shack in the woods?”

“Sort of?!” 

Tsukishima rolls to a stop next to Oikawa’s little collection of potted trees and gets out. He doesn’t wait for the other two, grunting when he slips on the ice, and hops up the front steps.

“I’M BACK!” He yells through the doorway, pulling off his sneakers and throwing them near the umbrella stand. He discards his jacket on the wall hook and moves further inside. Hinata and Kageyama scramble awkwardly up behind him, busy taking off their shoes and putting them away. Tsukishima hears voices and goes towards the kitchen.

There are…a lot of people. Tsukishima sees Kuroo first, and since he’s the most tolerable of the bunch (Akaashi is a sneaky annoyance, constantly hovering) Tsukishima makes his way over and grabs Kuroo’s forearm.

“Yo, have you—“

Suddenly there’s a snarl, and a very muscular, very _wild_ looking werewolf is shoving him away from the vampire and into the fridge. Kuroo makes a startled shout and turns, arms out to pull the werewolf away, when suddenly another one with piercings and pink hair is up in his space, protectively getting between Kuroo and everyone else.

And then Bokuto is there, forcing his body between Tsukishima and the wolf, his teeth bared as he growls, _”Back. Off.”_

Tsukishima wills his heart to stop beating so loudly and his eyes are drawn to Hinata and Kageyama, who stand shocked in the doorway to the kitchen. Hinata has that gleam in his eye that he gets when he’s about to do something stupid, and then—

“Get off of him!” Hinata shouts angrily. All eyes turn to the redhead, who realises what he’s done and turns bright red. Tsukishima squeezes his eyes shut and groans. He can feel a migraine coming on, especially when his brain catches up to what’s happening.

He opens his eyes and stares readily into the werewolf’s face. “You must’ve met my brother, then.”

Oikawa gapes at him from across the room. “You _knew_?!”

“Wh—how the fuck would I have a secret brother? Do you know how stupid that sounds?” Then, “wait, why the fuck do _you_ know about him? Is that who the look-alike hunter is?”

“This is a misunderstanding,” the wolf realises, stepping away. He runs a hand through his wavy black hair and frowns. “Sorry. I should have had better control of my instincts.” A weary pause. “You two aren’t in contact?”

Tsukishima’s eyes narrow. “Well, not really, seeing as I thought he was dead.”

By the looks of surprise on everyone’s faces, he can tell he’s not going to like what he’s about to hear.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“This is kinda weird,” Hinata whispers. His arms are spread out over the table, his legs stretched out underneath. He’s looking at everyone else like they’re some sort of marvel. “This is weird, right?”

Kageyama nods. Hinata pouts at how stiff the other’s still being and zeroes in on the four tenants of the house.

They’re…not how Hinata imagined them to be. When Daichi said that Tsukki was friends with other supernaturals, this isn’t what Hinata had in mind. Because he—he feels a little guilty thinking about it, but he sort of hoped that Tsukki felt as sad without them as they did without him. 

“Before we start this,” Oikawa begins, “where is Yahaba-chan?”

Oikawa is the scariest one, definitely. He seems nice—at least, to the people he decides he likes—but there’s just this vibe Hinata gets, like Oikawa is the most powerful person in the room and knows it. Also, it doesn’t seem like he likes angels very much judging by the half-hearted glares he’s been sending their way.

“We’ll keep him updated,” Matsukawa, the big werewolf, says. “He’s busy with our other packmate.”

“Ah, yes. Kyoutani-san?” Akaashi asks. He’s second scariest. He’s quiet and polite but very obviously mad at Shimizu. Also he has really cool scars all along his hands that Hinata reaaally wants to ask about. 

Matsukawa nods, and Bokuto leans forward and cocks his head to the side. “Is he ok?”

Bokuto seems like the nicest person ever. Hinata likes how friendly he is. Also, he’s been good about curbing Akaashi’s temper and sending them reassuring smiles. And he snuck them waffles. Hinata hasn’t had waffles in—about a hundred years?

Kuroo folds his arms over his chest slowly and eyes everyone else at the table one by one. When he reaches Hinata, he pauses and smirks. A shiver runs down Hinata’s spine and the redhead has no doubt in his mind that Kuroo and Tsukishima share a very similar, shrewd personality. Even if Kuroo’s is a bit well hidden.

“Well, let’s hear it,” he drawls. “C’mon, Kiyoko. What’s going on?”

She steps forward with her arms holding her elbows, regal as ever. Her black hair shines in the light. “I’m sure you’ve deduced that the mirror is a door to another world.” She waits for Kuroo to nod before continuing. “There are only several keys that can give their owners access to that world.”

“Ah, so that’s what he’s after then? Some sort of key?” Kuroo pauses. “Why would he need to get into that world in particular? From what it sounds like, there isn’t much in there to begin with.”

“That is not of your concern,” she says, but he shakes his head.

“We’re involved in this whether you want us to be or not. At least tell us why he wants the key. Does he think that’s where Kenma is or something?”

Kiyoko frowns, but it’s Tsukishima who asks, “but—how do you know that’s what he’s after?”

“Think about it. You’ve been fallen for a while now, and he never searched you or Kenma out before. Why? What changed? The only two things I can think of are Ushijima’s death and the appearance of the mirror.”

Kiyoko clears her throat. “You’re right. I have a key to that world, and Tsukishima the Throne Hunter is in search of such a key.” She swallows. “It appeared because someone used it.”

“You have one of the keys?” Iwaizumi cuts in. Kiyoko hesitates before nodding.

“It is impossible to enter the mirror without it,” she says. “That is all that I am at liberty to tell you.” She clasps her hands together and squeezes until her skin strains white. Hinata’s eyes catch the moment when Oikawa turns and watches her with a calculative stare before turning to the rest of the table and grinning.  
“Well, that sounds like enough for now!” He stands up and points to Hanamaki and Matsukawa. “You two go check on the rest of your pack, we’ll call you when we need you. And you,” he eyes the angel trio, “get to leave now.”

“But why?! Wh—“

“They can stay.”

Everyone pauses and stares at Tsukishima, who flushes bright and looks down.

“Stop staring,” he snaps. Oikawa blinks.

“Sorry, sorry. Of course, they can come back!” He whips around to glare at Hinata and Kageyama with minimal animosity. “So long as they give us notice and don’t show up on our doorstep like _lost crows_.”

Iwaizumi claps Oikawa hard on the back and the demon lets out a startled cough before peeling his expression back into a smile.

“Anyways, this is a family matter and we have something to discuss privately. So, I guess what I am saying is, everyone get the fuck out.”

His words are spoken with a cheery tone, but his expression is absolutely terrifying. Hinata is reminded that he is sitting at the same table as one of the most powerful demons in the world and immediately Kageyama is gripping him by the back of the shirt and hauling him up and out of the room.

“But Tsukki—“

“Shh,” Kageyama hisses as they get to the doorway. “We’ll be back.”

They share a long look. Kageyama’s hand lets go of Hinata’s shirt and slides down to hold his hand.

“We will,” Hinata nods. 

They will.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Everyone is fairly easy to clear out, thank god. Oikawa nods to Kiyoko and thanks her for her help with a pasty grin as he escorts her and the werewolves to the door.

“Hey,” Hanamaki says. He holds Oikawa’s forearm gently, eyeing Kiyoko until she exits. Matsukawa is immediately in both of their space. Damn werewolves and their lack of a personal bubble. “We won’t say anything.”

Oikawa smiles tightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“We know the—“ Matsukawa stops, and his superhearing must tell him what Oikawa deduced moments ago: Kiyoko is listening in. She probably won’t leave until everyone else does, too. Nosy angels. “We…know who has it.”

“What, are you going to tell the rest of your pack?” Oikawa asks, his hands clenching into fists. Hanamaki’s hand moves down Oikawa’s arm to soothe the tenseness away. He leans in to whisper:

“We’re on your side.” He leans back out. “We just wanted you to know that we know.”

With a deep breath, Oikawa lets his muscles relax. He has to constantly remind himself who his allies are, and it’s…tiring, to be on guard all the time. Besides, these two have never given him a reason not to trust them. They seem—they seem decent. 

He nods. “Thank you.” He means it.

They seem to understand this. Hanamaki gives Oikawa’s wrist one last squeeze before latching onto Matsukawa’s hand, and with that they leave. Oikawa takes a minute in the doorway to process and to think over everything, before he goes back to the others. He sidesteps Iwaizumi and Tsukishima and plops down in Akaashi’s lap. 

Immediately Akaashi winds his arms around his boyfriend and tucks Oikawa’s head onto a bony shoulder.

“What happened?” He asks. “Is this about you having a key? There’s no possible way for Tsukishima’s brother to—“

Oikawa lets out a little sniffle. He’s…he’s just been constantly overwhelmed. He swallows and focuses on the way Akaashi’s hand works through his hair, and Iwaizumi takes that as a cue to gently usher Tsukishima and Kunimi up to one of the bedrooms.

“It’s Kunimi-chan,” he whispers. “I-It’s—he has a key.”

“You didn’t go into the mirror together,” Kuroo realises. “You came in separately.”

Oikawa nods, and Kuroo leans over and squeezes Bokuto’s shoulder. Bokuto scooches his chair closer and rests a hand on Kuroo’s thigh, his palm warm and comforting. 

“How,” Kuroo asks slowly, “did you get in then?”

“I saw Kenma. H-he gave me this really old-looking key, he told me I had to, like, use it alone. I was planning to tell you guys about it, I swear, but then all of this happened.” Oikawa squeezes his eyes shut. 

Kuroo stands up and Oikawa can practically feel Akaashi’s hackles rise.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He demands, and Kuroo lets out a stiff laugh and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I can’t—I need a minute, ok?” He turns away. “I’m not mad at you, Tooru, I swear, I just—I’m thinking.”

“I understand that—“

“No, you _don’t_!” A stiff inhale. “I’m just—I need to process.”

“Just say what you want to say!” Akaashi snaps, immediately on the defensive.

“My best friend is MISSING!” Kuroo shouts, and they all freeze. Silence hangs in the air for a beat. “He—he’s missing, and with this hunter on the loose—“ his voice breaks—“I was worried he might’ve been _dead_.”

Bokuto stands up and puts his hands on Kuroo’s shoulders, grabbing his stare.

“Take some deep breaths, man,” he says slowly. “We’re here. We’re not going anywhere.”

Kuroo tries to push him away and Bokuto doesn’t let him, slowly pulling him into a hug and trapping Kuroo’s flailing arms between their chests. He rocks them back and forth, letting out a low growl that vibrates his whole body, and presses their foreheads together.

“Better?” Bokuto asks. 

Kuroo doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t have to. Their foreheads stay pressed together. “Sorry, Tooru,” he mutters. “That was out of line.”

Oikawa blinks.

“Tetsu-chan, I am so sorry for not telling you earlier,” he says. “I didn’t fully consider your feelings. You seemed so nonchalant about Ken-chan’s disappearance, I didn’t notice how much you were worrying.” He climbs out of Akaashi’s lap, the witch standing up and following as he makes his way over to Kuroo and Bokuto and wraps them both in a hug. “You’ve had a long month, haven’t you?”

Kuroo nods wordlessly, tears running silent tracks down his cheeks. Oikawa coos, smiling when Akaashi joins them in their now four-man hug.

It hurts, Oikawa realises. It hurts that they didn’t see how much Kuroo was hurting. But he’ll keep his boyfriend safe—all of his boyfriends safe—no matter what.

Even if it kills him.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

They’re sitting by the fireplace that afternoon, snuggled up under thick woven blankets and with mugs of hot chocolate in hand, when Bokuto asks,

“So, how did Kunimi get a key anyhow?”

“Ushijima?” Akaashi guesses, curling his toes into the mound of blankets piled at his feet. He throws one of his marshmallows into the fire and watches it burn. “I don’t know where else he could’ve gotten it.”

Oikawa tucks his chin over his knees and leans into Bokuto’s side. “I wasn’t close with him in the beginning. It was only after I realised I was really stuck under Ushiwaka that I started to get close to his underlings.” He hums and sips his hot chocolate, turning to Kuroo. “What do you think?

For a minute, Kuroo just gazes into the fire. He looks like there are thousands of things running through his head. 

“I think…that he doesn’t have a key on him.”

They stare at him. 

“Uh…how do you think he got into the mirror then?” Oikawa asks. 

“I don’t know. But him having some key on him this whole time and never mentioning it once? Doesn’t seem very likely to me.” Kuroo rests his toes on the bricks at the edge of the fireplace. From behind, Akaashi begins rubbing his back. He leans into the touch. “I’d have to ask whoever made the keys to figure out more.”

“Maybe the ability was transferred,” Akaashi says. “Maybe the keys are simply objects containing a certain magical signature, and Ushijima lifted that signature and placed it upon something else to give to Kunimi-san. Maybe he _is_ a key.”

He buries his face into the back of Kuroo’s neck and moves his hands to the vampire’s thighs, rubbing away any tension. When his hands skirt a little close to something sensitive Kuroo twitches and the skin of his neck grows hot. Akaashi smirks. They haven’t had this much time to themselves in a while.

“Don’t forget the others are upstairs,” Oikawa mumbles, and suddenly very large hands are at his waist, turning him around until he’s chest-to-chest with Bokuto, plopped right down on the werewolf’s crossed legs. Immediately there’s a mouth at his neck, and Oikawa whimpers and tilts his head to give better access.

“Please don’t mention the kids right now,” Akaashi grunts.

Oikawa doesn’t. 

And if he doesn’t because he’s got his tongue down his boyfriend’s throat, well, that’s no one’s business but their own.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Tsukishima wakes up to a tapping sound. The afternoon crawled away slowly and now the moon is just making its appearance, bathing the world in a pale violet. Twilight has always been Tsukishima’s favourite time of the day.

The tapping noise persists despite his attempts to ignore it.

“The fuck?” He grunts, giving Kunimi’s back a soft shove in order to roll him over and get viewing access to the window.

Ah, fuck.

Hinata’s worried face is smooshed into the window. He looks almost comical.

Tsukishima rolls his eyes and raises his middle finger. There is nothing that can make him get out of bed right now. Kunimi is like a fucking heatpack and looks like he hasn’t slept well in weeks, and Tsukishima isn’t feeling too hot either. Then again, his brother is not-so-dead anymore. He has a lot to—

There’s a metallic _clank!_ loud enough to make Kunimi shift in his sleep. Ready to cut heads, Tsukishima glares only to see Hinata pressing a key to the window. A long, old key.

Well, fuck him on a stick. Tsukishima slowly climbs out of bed and opens the window. Despite the wide windowsill Hinata still manages to fall on his face.

“I have a key,” he says into the floor. It sounds more like “i hapsh a kayy”. 

“If you wake him up,” Tsukishima hisses, grabbing Hinata by the ear and yanking him to his feet, “I will kill you in your sleep.”

“I just want to help! Besides, I thought you’d want to know that Kiyoko-nee-san gave me her key.”

Ugh. “Help somewhere else. I swear to god if anyone else gets involved in this it’s going to be a fucking nightmare. I can’t keep track of this many idiots.”

Hinata pouts. His eyes wander over to the bed and he pads over, looking down at Kunimi.

“He looks tired,” the angel notes quietly. Tsukishima’s never seen Hinata like this, and it hits him that he really has missed a huge portion of Hinata and Kageyama’s growth. They matured without him, and even though he did the same to them it still leaves him feeling…hollow.

“Yeah, well. He hasn’t been sleeping well.”

“Mm. There’s some new magic on him, too. A blocking brand?”

“Thanks to you,” Tsukishima growls. He watches Hinata put a hand on Kunimi’s forehead, humming as he concentrates. It’s odd to see the redhead so subdued. “When you and Kageyama tracked him you nearly made him sick.”

Hinata doesn’t respond for a minute, focusing until his hand starts to glow. Kunimi’s expression soothes out. “He was having nightmares,” Hinata murmurs, before glancing up so he can meet Tsukishima’s eyes. They almost glow, a bright harvest orange, in the twilight. A shiver runs down Tsukishima’s spine.

“And you’re wrong about that,” the angel continues.

“About what?” Tsukishima asks. Hinata pauses and then looks down at Kunimi the same way he looks at math.

“We weren’t the ones tracking him.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Iwaizumi pulls on a thick pair of socks as he descends the stairs. Both Tsukishima and Kunimi are sleeping in Oikawa’s room, tucked against each other, and now it’s time for Iwaizumi to run some interference. He desperately wants to check in with Oikawa and see how he’s doing.

“Hey, guys—“

“OH MY GOD, LOOK AWAY!” Oikawa shrieks. 

“Why d—WHAT THE FUCK?!” Iwaizumi’s palm hits his eyes so fast he thinks he might leave a mark. “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT NOW?!”

“To be fair,” Kuroo’s voice drifts over, “both Oiks and I were down to wait until later.”

“WH—“

“Does this mean God is watching?” Bokuto whispers, most likely to Akaashi. Sure enough the witch admonishes, “of course not.”

There is a horrifying moment where there is nothing but silence, Iwaizumi realising that he can’t walk out of the living room without using vision and the four are unable to move without making certain…noises.

Iwaizumi hears Bokuto slip on his sweaty-ass palms and shift the four of them, and Oikawa lets out a particularly loud moan that quickly turns into a screech of embarrassment.

“Iwa-chan was never supposed to see me like this,” he sobs dramatically, voice hoarse. Iwaizumi doesn’t think he can feel any more second-hand embarrassment for the rest of his life. This is it. This is the maximum capacity.

“I need to talk to Oikawa,” he says. His voice sounds incredibly uncomfortable and awkward. It cracks painfully halfway through the sentance.

“I’m _a little busy_ Iwa-chan!”

“I-I’ll just…give you a…a moment.” With that, Iwaizumi whips around, swearing when his knee connects with the edge of the couch, and uncovers his eyes. He marches out of the living room with the feeling that he wants to die.

After ten minutes of waiting in the laundry room, Oikawa pads inside. He’s wearing Bokuto’s sweatshirt and Kuroo’s sweats, and his feet are covered in what must be three layers of socks. 

“We are never,” he says, “ _never_ speaking of this.”

Iwaizumi has never agreed to anything faster.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…interrupt.”

Oikawa sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “It’s fine, it’s not your fault. There’s a time and a place…” He smiles awkwardly. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

In that moment, Iwaizumi looks at him. Really, really looks at him. Oikawa is tired. He’s got those rings under his eyes, and while they’re not that noticeable, they’re accompanied by that look he had when Ushijima was still around. The look of someone hunted. Its exactly ow he looks before he does something really, really stupid and self-sacrificing. Like make a deal with a demon.

He pulls Oikawa into a hug and takes a deep breath. “I’m worried about you.”

For a minute Iwaizumi is really worried he was too direct, but then the demon is sagging into his arms.

“I’ll be ok,” he whispers.

“You’d better be,” Iwaizumi says. Then he softens, pressing a kiss onto the crown of Oikawa’s head and tightening his grip when the demon whines and tries to slink away. “You mean a lot to me, and to them. Take care of yourself. We would be completely lost without you.”

Oikawa cranes his neck so he can rest his head on Iwaizumi’s chest. 

“Thanks,” he mumbles. “I really needed to hear that today.” He turns his head to the side, ear pressed so he can hear Iwaizumi’s heart beating, and sniffles. “So, Kunimi-chan is a key.”

Iwaizumi grunts. “Always was something funny about that kid,” he says. Oikawa laughs.

“That’s just because you met on bad circumstances.”

“He almost stabbed me!”

“To be fair, Iwa-chan, you have a very stab-able personality.”

Iwaizumi snorts. “Says you. Do you think he knew about it this whole time?”

“No,” Oikawa frowns. “He probably didn’t realise what was happening when Ushijima made him…whatever he is. A key, whatnot.”

For just a few seconds, Iwaizumi closes his eyes and he’s back in that doorway, the blood running up his throat and into his nose, making it impossible to breathe. Oikawa had hovered over him, totally frozen, and it was Kunimi who quietly pushed Iwaizumi onto his back and said, “you’re going to be ok”. It wasn’t, Iwaizumi had been so sure. They’d barely escaped Ushijima, and they could only hide from him for so long. Then there were tatami mats under his head and Oikawa was tucked into his chest and everything was dark.

His eyes open and he’s standing in the laundry room.

“Let’s go check on him.”

When they go to open the laundry room door Tsukishima is standing there, arm stretched out as though to grab the knob. His hair is getting longer—Oikawa will probably have to cut it for him soon—and his eyes are glowing slightly. Sweat beads at his forehead.

“Grab the other idiots,” he growls. “I figured out how my bastard brother found us.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

There’s not a lot of light in the room when Kunimi wakes up. He feels…tired. Like someone dragged him through a pool of honey and now he can’t move properly. When he turns his head there’s hands gently keeping him still.

“Sorry,” says a voice. Hinata? “Just a little bit longer, I promise!”

Tsukishima doesn’t say much about his old flock, but he’s told Kunimi enough to know that Hinata is a person who can be trusted. As loud and obnoxious as he can be, he, much like Bokuto, also has a wildly loyal streak and would do anything for the people he cares about. So instead of fighting it, Kunimi closes his eyes and rests back.

“Is something wrong with me?” He asks. He tries to remember if angels have other powers besides healing.

Hinata’s hands twitch. “Uh…not exactly? It’s more like someone cast a spell on you. I’m trying to see where the spell came from.”

Oh. Magic.

Great. 

“Akaashi is probably better than you.” He says bluntly. In reality, he really just wants someone familiar to show up. He doesn’t like waking up alone with strangers, especially not after getting trapped in a mirror with one.

“He’s busy,” Hinata says. 

“…busy?”

“Him and Iwaizumi are setting up new barriers around the house. Like, just in case or something.”

Where’s Oikawa then? Or Tsukishima?

“Everyone else left to go grab some stuff from Kuroo’s office,” Hinata puts in. When he shuffles around on the bed to sit down he ends up pressed against Kunimi’s hip, legs dangling off the edge. Kunimi opens his eyes and figures whatever magic was being worked must be done.

“It’s snowing outside,” he says quietly. He loves the snow. Given the way Hinata’s eyes also light up, the angel does, too. “Where is Kageyama?”

“Ah, he ended up being the distraction when I snuck by Dadchi!” Hinata laughs. It’s happy and boyish. “He’s not super thrilled about it. But it’s because Kiyoko-nee-san gave me her key to me and I figured your, uh, friends would want to take a look.”

Hm.

Kunimi shifts so he’s laying on his side and stares at the clock.

He just wants this all to be over.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Kenma likes waiting.

He stands at a train station in a grey, cold world, and wonders how long he will be here. There are no games here for him to play, no people to watch. Just him. And only days ago, four unsuspecting supernaturals, too. 

Snow begins to drift up from the ground in pretty flakes, shining bright in the darkness. Kenma doesn’t touch it, preferring to keep his hands in his pockets. He waits for the snow to let up a little bit before closing his eyes and focusing. He likes waiting.

Kuroo is almost there. He just needs a little _push_ , and that’s something Kenma’s never been afraid to give him before.

Yes. He knows how this is going to end.

He thinks of that time so many nights ago, walking through a warm hallway for the last time. Putting out the fireplace, dragging all the mats into the closet to collect dust. Knowing, just knowing, that someday he would return.

He knows he can no longer run. He knows that, soon enough, he will be found. That is fine. He has nowhere else he needs to be. 

Besides. He likes waiting.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“What exactly are you doing?” Tsukishima asks, arms folded against his chest. He raises an eyebrow. Both him, Oikawa, and Bokuto are standing back watching Kuroo work, running around the shelves so he can tug out a huge dusty old whiteboard. The vampire grunts and wipes it off with his shirt sleeve.

“My name?” Oikawa asks, tilting his head to the side.

Kuroo ignores them, mostly muttering to himself. He writes on the board four names: Kenma, Oikawa, Tsukishima, and Kunimi. Then he draws two lines from Tsukishima, one for each brother.

“Oikawa is the one he attacked first, looking for a key,” he mutters, then stops. “No. No, he attacked Yahaba first. Why? Because he was looking for Kenma?” He pauses and looks over his shoulder. “Tsukishima.” The demon straightens up. “Does your brother know that you’re Legion?”

“Yeah. Why? Does he—“ 

Kuroo ignores him and turns back to the whiteboard. Tsukishima gets ready to yell when Bokuto puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head.

“Let him figure this out,” he says quietly.

Kuroo continues his work.

“Yahaba mentioned being close with Kenma. Tsukishima probably doesn’t care who he gets the key from, so he might…ok.” He reaches down and writes Ushijima’s name at the bottom corner, away from everything else. “Oikawa, when did Kenma give you the key?”

Oikawa blinks. “Uh…a little bit after I met Yahaba-chan.”

“Were you near the mirror?”

“I…yeah, actually, how did you—“

Kuroo turns back away and Oikawa rolls his eyes but lets him work.

“But then how did he know to track Kunimi…?” Kuroo pauses. Then, “oh my god.”

“Can you please clue us in here?” Tsukishima growls, getting tired of this.

“This would be best explained once,” Kuroo says. Without waiting another second he whips out his phone and calls Akaashi. When the witch picks up, he says, “put me on speaker. I think I figured it out.”

_”You’re on speaker. What’s going on?”_

Kuroo hesitates. “It’s—I think Kei’s brother is trying to start another falling.”

“WHA—“

“He didn’t just happen to run into Yahaba,” Kuroo interrupts Tsukishima before he can finish yelling. “Listen, I think Kenma is hiding in the mirror. He’s always had this thing, where he can sort of…sense where people are. What’s happening. He’s really powerful, you know? I think Kei’s brother wants to use that power to find Kei. But if Kenma found out he was being hunted—“

_”He can’t get to Kenma without a key, then?”_ There’s Iwaizumi. _”Does he know who has one?”_

“Not for sure. I think…he must have already exhausted a list of suspects, because Yahaba doesn’t have a strong connection to Kenma and neither does Oiks. It’s also possible he was able to get someone who had a key, but wasn’t able to make them give it up. Maybe they didn’t have it anymore.”

Tsukishima makes a surprised noise and they turn to him.

“Kiyoko gave Hinata her key,” he says.

“So the original owners know they’re being hunted and are passing them on,” Bokuto says. “Ok, I guess that makes sense? That’s why the bro’s going after random people.”

Kuroo frowns, resting his hand on his hip. He’s got that face on, the one where he thinks they’re missing something but isn’t quite certain what. When he glances over his shoulder at the whiteboard he carefully looks over each name.

“You good?” Bokuto prods gently. He reaches over and curls his fingers around Kuroo’s palm, smiling when Kuroo squeezes back and nods.

“Yeah. It’s not something we need to worry about right now.” A quick pause. “So the original owners are making sure Kei’s brother doesn’t get the keys, so that he can’t find Kenma, so that he can’t find Kei.” Kuroo looks up at Tsukishima with a hint of a grin. “You’ve got him on quite the goose chase, buddy. No wonder he’s so riled up.”

“You haven’t gotten to why he’s looking for me,” Tsukishima growls.

Kuroo laughs a little. It’s good to see him unwinding from his almost-manic hunt for answers. “You’ve got the Legion inside of you like a corked bottle. My guess? He’s trying to set _Legion_ free.”

“Honestly, that sounds like my brother. Fuck.”

Oikawa throws an arm around Tsukishima and snickers.

“Don’t worry! As if we’ll let anything happen to you.”

_”Hey, the tracking magic Hinata set up just got put through.”_ Akaashi’s fuzzy voice sounds through the receiver. They all stop. “It worked. We found him.”

Grinning, Bokuto leans in. “Well, guys. Let’s catch ourselves a demon hunter.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“But it’s not a matter of finding him,” Oikawa points out. Everyone is camped out in the living room, bundled up and huddling close to the fire. Outside, a snowstorm rages on. “We know where he is.”

“We could lure him out?” Akaashi tries, but Bokuto shakes his head.

“To where? We can’t bring him to the house, and magic runs well in that forest. He’d have the advantage.”

From off to the side Iwaizumi has an arm around Kunimi, who’s pressed between him and Tsukishima. Although Hinata got picked up and carried off by Kageyama hours ago, the blonde demon is trying to keep him updated. If only just in case.

“He’s searching for a key, isn’t he?” Iwaizumi asks. “Oikawa, you’re one of the most powerful demons. What do you think?”

Oikawa’s toes curl against the edge of the couch as he thinks about it. “I…I think we should let him take someone.”

Five, four, three, two…

“WHAT?!” Bokuto screeches, prompting Tsukishima to throw a pillow at him. “But—“

“There’s no way—“ Akaashi starts. Iwaizumi leans forward.

“I won’t let you do this, not—“

Kuroo raises his hand, and they all stop. 

“I agree,” he says seriously. “I think if we pull it off, this is our safest bet at getting him.”

“How can you say that?!” Akaashi exclaims. Flush starts to creep up and over his ears as he gets worked up over the mere thought of it. “I could never let one of you walk into danger like that.”

“Never,” Kuroo nods. “Not like that. We know where his base is. So, we lure him out of it with the idea that he’s going to get one of us. While he’s gone, you can get in with Yahaba, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi. The four of you can put up barriers, spells, whatever you need to do to trap him. He won’t be suspecting it in his own hideout.” He leans back and into Bokuto’s chest. “He’s getting impatient and that will make him an easy target.”

“It should be me.”

This time they all stare. Kunimi gazes back at them with a calm expression.

“It should be me,” he repeats. “He tracked me. He probably knows I have a key but he can’t get it from me. Besides, I…” _I’m expendable._

Oikawa’s expression goes wobbly. “Kunimi-chan…”

Sensing his boyfriends oncoming tears, Akaashi reaches out and begins carding his hands through Oikawa’s hair. 

“I’m sorry, Kunimi, but there’s just no way—“

“I can make my own decisions.” Kunimi’s voice is stronger this time. “I can handle anything. Mostly, I trust you guys to get me back.” His hands clench into fists on his knees and Iwaizumi runs a comforting hand up and down his back. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”

Akaashi and Kuroo share a helpless glance, and Bokuto’s arms tighten around Kuroo’s waist. The werewolf buries his face into Kuroo’s dark hair and inhales. Mumbling into the warm skin of Kuroo’s neck, he says, “we’ll get you back.”

“I know,” Kunimi responds. He does.

“I’m the one he’s interested in. I’ll have to go with you,” Kuroo continues. “He’ll find me, and that will lead him to you.”

Kunimi nods.

Kuroo swallows, his voice getting terribly broken up. “I don’t know if I can watch him take you.”

“You’ll get me back.”

There’s not a single bit of Kunimi’s mind that doubts it.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

It’s simple. Kuroo is going to go out with Kunimi into the woods to look for the mirror. The moment Kei’s brother—Akiteru, that’s the name Kei gave them—finds them, he’ll take interest in Kuroo since that seems to be the trend of the decade. When Kuroo makes it clear he’ll do anything to keep Kunimi safe, that’ll make the little demon an enticing prize.

Suffice to say, it works a little bit too well.

Yahaba’s pack is back at the house, ordered to stay there no matter what and guard Tsukishima in case everything goes to shit. Hinata and Kageyama are there too, for the healing that will most likely need to happen. Bokuto is with Iwaizumi, Yahaba, and Akaashi, keeping an eye out for any lackeys. This leaves Oikawa to stay hidden in the forest, watching over mirror as a safeguard. 

Honestly, Kuroo just wants to get this all over with. He wants to have everyone safe and at home. He’s also pretty curious to meet this Kyoutani guy, he sounds like an interesting nut to crack. Most of all he wants to hug Kenma.

So when Akiteru finally appears, his grin biting and vicious, Kuroo gets that itch under his skin. The itch that he just wants to _snap_. He hasn’t drained anyone down in a long time.

But they need information.

Kuroo’s body locks up as Akiteru works his magic, presses uncomfortably close and grins. 

_They need information._

Akiteru’s eyes work over Kunimi before lighting up.

_They need information._

The rogue hunter tilts his head to the side, and Kunimi doesn’t fight it when Akiteru raises a hand and hits him. _Hard._ The demon crumples to the ground in a heap and for a second, just a split second, Kuroo’s vision goes red. Fuck the plan. Fuck the plan. He can’t watch this happen. His body’s moving through its magical holds until his hand is on Akiteru’s throat.

“Oh, did I find a weakness?” Akiteru teases, voice rough from the hold. “I like him. I think I’ll borrow him.”

Kuroo’s vision is still red, he wants to lean in and _take_ until there’s nothing left to take. No one hurts his family.

And then he remembers Tsukishima’s face when he found out his brother was still alive, and freezes. 

He has to go through with the plan.

His fangs stop digging holes into his gums and that moment of hesitation is all Akiteru needs to lash out and throw Kuroo’s vision into darkness.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“This is…really, really creepy,” Bokuto mutters as they pick their way around the hideout. It’s some sort of abandoned factory on the other side of the forest. Apparently it was where the town originally tried to settle down, before moving into the rain shadow farther north. 

From off to the left Akaashi and Yahaba begin muttering. Iwaizumi moves closer to Bokuto and claps him on the back hard, throwing off his train of thought.

“Keep an ear out,” he says. “Akiteru can use magic. He’ll sense something if we don’t get out of here in time.”

Bokuto nods numbly, flinching when he feels absolute rage flood through the impartial pack bond. 

“He found them,” he mumbles. “Tetsu’s…really angry.” 

Iwaizumi nods and looks over to Akaashi.

“Think you guys can get it done in time?”

“We’re going as fast as we can,” Yahaba complains, and as much as Bokuto wants to get annoyed he can’t. From where he stands he can see Yahaba’s hands shaking and sweat beading up around his forehead. “He’s got a lot of protective wards up. We can’t put any of our own stuff down until we get rid of those. Then I’ll link up my magic so I can hear what’s happening inside.”

Bokuto listens for any sort of noise inside of the factory. “There are people inside. Only two. No—no, there’s three. But…one of them is hidden.” He frowns. “Can Akiteru use that vanishing magic with Kunimi?”

Akaashi shakes his head. “Only when he’s alone. It’s a no-passengers sort of trip.”

“Ok. I think you have a couple more minutes, and then we’re gonna need to hide.”

They nod to each other, and it’s silence for the next couple of minutes. The second Bokuto picks up on Akiteru’s breathing he freezes, then hurriedly grabs Iwaizumi’s attention to move Yahaba and Akaashi farther away. Bokuto stays near the entrance to give himself the best vantage point, shifting and pressing low to the ground in the tall grass. 

His claws dig into the ground.

Akiteru is not what Bokuto expected him to be. He’s arrogant, walking confidently through the forest. Kunimi is thrown over his shoulder like some sort of prize, blood matting part of the demon’s hair from where he’s been hit and knocked out. 

Kuroo, who had promised to follow if possible, is not anywhere nearby, meaning that Akiteru has not only hurt Kunimi, but him as well.

This is just…

He has to breathe slowly and carefully in order to not be noticed. Every bone in his body aches to run forward and end it all there.

But they need to know. They need to be absolutely sure Akiteru is the leader, that there aren’t more ready to replace him. Once they know that he’s working alone…only then is Bokuto allowed to do what he wants.

Akiteru strolls up to the factory, looks it over. Agitation prickles over Bokuto. _Why isn’t he going inside?_

Finally, after what feels like hours, Akiteru kicks open the door and walks in. With a flick of his hand it shuts behind him.

All the air leaves Bokuto’s body, and he immediately runs over to where Akaashi and the others are hiding in the edges of the forest. Akaashi runs his hands through Bokuto’s fur, expression torn. There are tears building up in the corner of his eyes.

“As long as he’s in the warehouse he won’t be able to use that controlling magic,” he whispers. “So I don’t know how long it’ll be before he notices we’ve done something.”

“Shh,” Yahaba says, and closes his eyes. His expression becomes pinched. “Give me a second. I need to hear where they’re taking him.” He frowns. “Ok. He’s being put in an interrogation room. It looks like they’re going to leave him there for a while.”

“Can we please just break him out?” Bokuto asks as he shifts, sagging into Akaashi. He takes a shuddering breath and shakes his head. “Sorry. I know we have to follow the plan or this will all be for nothing. I just…I’ve never done something like this before.”

Yahaba gives him a sympathetic look.

“The second I figure out if Akiteru’s alone I’ll tell you and we’ll get him. He’ll be ok.” He shifts around his backpack and pulls out a blanket. He sets it on the ground and sits down, and Iwaizumi plops down next to him.

“Go find Kuroo,” the angel says, not unkindly. “We’ll be here. I’ll make sure nothing happens in the meantime.”

“But what if—“

“Bokuto.” Iwaizumi’s face becomes very serious. “Look at me. If that bastard does anything to Kunimi that I think he can’t handle, there is _nothing_ in this world or any other that will be able to stop me. Go find your boyfriend. We’ve got this.”

Akaashi gently helps Bokuto to his feet, eyes hollow.

“They’re right,” he murmurs, and it’s true.

Still, as they walk away, Bokuto can’t help but feel like it’s also a betrayal.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

It’s been two days. 

Oikawa is a wreck. He hasn’t eaten, hasn’t slept properly in those two days. He’s curled up on that blanket, camped outside in the snow with Yahaba and waiting for the moment to come when they can rescue Kunimi. Matsukawa and Hanamaki have spent most of that time with the pair, having come to set up a tent and then never leaving. Bokuto understands. He doesn’t like being separated from his pack, either.

Out of the rest of them, Kuroo also isn’t doing too well. He got hit pretty hard in the head, so his headaches coupled with the painful anticipation of their attack has got him wound up. Bokuto imagines he’s also eager to see Kenma, and can’t imagine how hard it must be to know where Kenma is but not be able to bring him home.

Tsukishima has been making himself pretty vacant. He spends almost all of his time with the angels.

Snow blankets the ground, keeping the forest eerily quiet.

Day three passes in silence.

By day four, Oikawa breaks. They get a call from Matsukawa, barely legible through the arguing in the background. Apparently Oikawa tried to storm the factory all on his own, and got tackled by Hanamaki halfway there. Bokuto’s fists clench so hard it draws blood, and he only stops when Akaashi’s gentle hands rub over his knuckles.

“Breathe,” the witch murmurs. Out of all of them, he’s taking this the best. “Remember; if Kunimi is put in serious danger they will definitely save him. Sit tight. I’ll go get Oikawa.”

On day four, Akaashi returns with a tired, ragged Oikawa. The demon shudders, takes one look at Tsukishima, and then bursts into tears. Immediately Iwaizumi is there, drawing Oikawa into a half-hug, half-carry. He brings Oikawa upstairs to the bedroom to sleep. Bokuto takes a deep breath before nodding to a sombre Hinata and Kageyama, grabbing his coat and scarf from the closet and heading out to the other pack.

The second he arrives Yahaba is up, eyes wide with concern.

“Is Oikawa going to be ok?”

Bokuto smiles tightly. “Yeah, he’ll be ok. He’s just…Kunimi means a lot to him. More than any of us could understand. The idea of doing this voluntarily is really messing with him.”

With a hint of reservation Matsukawa rests a warm hand on Bokuto’s shoulder. 

“Whatever we can assist you with we will,” he says. “Kyoutani’s being watched by elders from another pack. He’s safe. We will stay here as long as you need us.”

“Thanks.” Bokuto just feels tired. He wants this all to be over with.

On day five, Yahaba wakes up screaming. In order to keep from getting caught Matsukawa immediately clamps his hands over the demon’s mouth, shushing him desperately as Yahaba writhes on the ground. Hanamaki is out of the tent in seconds, checking to see if they were heard by anyone. The coast is clear.

“He knows something’s going on,” Yahaba gasps out, when he manages to be still. “He—he found Akaashi’s magic. He—he _mutilated_ it, but it’s still—he can’t get rid of it. He doesn’t know I’m watching him, but I don’t know how long that will last.”

“The second you lose visibility we’re breaking in,” Bokuto decides. It’s not a question. He flips out his phone and, when Akaashi doesn’t answer, leaves a message: “tell Tetsu and Oiks to get ready. It’s gonna be soon.”

Six days after Kunimi was taken, Yahaba is leaning against Hanamaki for body heat when his eyes snap open and he pales.

“It’s gone. He found my magic. I—I can’t see them anymore.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Bakers are very timely people. 

They know how to keep schedule. They have to work at the crack of dawn, and if they forget to put even one step of the process in it throws everything off. Turning on the oven for preheating, making sure the dough is finished in time to sit, preparing the proofing drawers. Everything has to be done on time in a specific order, in order to be done as quickly and efficiently as possible.

So it’s suffice to say that he knows what he’s doing. He checks his watch and knows that in thirty seconds, one of the two idiot lackeys is going to turn the corner and check his emails and generally kill time for about five minutes. He knows that the other one is on the other side of the factory doing the exact same thing. Lazy. 

Makes his job easier, though. He reaches into his pocket and feels the weight of the key in his palm. Of course he’d rather not be taking care of this himself, but…well, Akiteru is getting a little to close to the cafe for the baker’s liking.

He drops down from the pipework in the ceiling near silently and creeps up behind the lackey. Within seconds he has his knife flipped around in his hand, grabs the hilt firmly just like he was shown, and lodges it into the lackey’s back.

He catches the body as it falls to keep from making any noise, trying not to cough when it bursts into a cloud of black dust.

One down, one to go. 

He’s about to turn the corner when he hears a _CLANG!_ , followed by a series of grunts and hushed whispers. Curious, he takes a breath before jumping up and grabbing the pipework above him. Just as the strangers voices start to become clearer he pulls himself up and into the mess of pipes, safe from any wandering eyes.

Four strangers, all men, come into view. They stare at the pile of dust in wary surprise before one of them, a black-haired one with a build like a lumberjack, twitches and looks right up into the pipes with narrowed eyes.

Well, fuck. He’s definitely been caught.

However, this werewolf—because those senses are too strong to belong to any other creature—doesn’t seem to inclined to rat him out. Interesting. Besides, it looks like they share a common interest.

“C’mon,” a brunet hisses, and—oh, ok, yeah, that’s one of the cafe regulars, Oikawa Tooru. What the actual fuck? “We have to go.”

The baker hits his head against one of the pipes and groans, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Kenma, you bastard,” he hisses. “You fucking set me up.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

They’re quick to separate, no matter how bad of an idea it is. There are just too many places to search at once, and Oikawa wants to find Kunimi sooner rather than later. He grabs Iwaizumi by the elbow and pulls him down one hallway, leaving Matsukawa and Yahaba to go down the other.

“He messed with the wrong pack,” Oikawa growls as he strides down the hall. With each step he takes his eyes glow brighter, his horns peeking out from around his hair, and his jacket and jeans fades away until he’s in a terrifying, black and red getup. He truly looks like a demon. Iwaizumi stares in shock before grimacing and letting his wings free.

They swing open at least twenty doors before they finally find the right one.

Kunimi…Kunimi looks _terrible_.

He’s sitting in a chair, eyes vacantly stuck on the wall. His hair is greasy and disgusting and his skin is grimy. Sweat soaks through his shirt and pants and leaves him looking horrible. And his arms…

His hands are on the table. They’re nailed down by the palm.

When he looks up at them, his eyes fills with tears and he smiles. Within seconds he’s out of the chair, hands freed as Oikawa quickly but carefully pulls the nails out, and the two demons immediately embrace. Iwaizumi hurries over, checking over his shoulder to make sure no one is coming before holding Kunimi’s hands in his own and letting the healing magic wash over them. Kunimi gasps in pain as the holes in his hands begin to scab over.

“You came for me,” he rasps. Oikawa lets out a whimper.

“Always,” he says. “Always. We will always come for you.”

But Kunimi doesn’t hear it. The pair stop and find him limp in their arms. The pain and stress of the situation must have hit him all at once, and now he’s unconscious. His expression smooths out and Oikawa smiles and lowers to his knees and cradles the demon close to his chest.

“Thank god,” he says.

“Oh, no, you’ve got it all wrong.” They all freeze. Akiteru steps through the doorway with a quiet click of his shoes. “God’s got nothing to do with this.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Kuroo knows it sounds ridiculous, but his life flashes in front of his eyes.

Bokuto is behind him with Akaashi when he hears Oikawa and Iwaizumi find Kunimi, and the second Akiteru joins the party. The werewolf looks ready to throw up, and he takes a shaky step forward before Kuroo puts a hand on his chest to stop him in his footsteps.

“Find the other follower. We need to make sure we get everyone or we could risk this happening all over again,” he says. He catches Bokuto’s eyes and nods before drawing him in for a tight hug.

“Stay safe,” Bokuto whispers in his ear.

“You too,” Kuroo whispers back. They pull apart and Kuroo leans forward to press a kiss to Akaashi’s lips. “Find me when you guys are done.”

“Of course,” Akaashi nods. He spares one last parting glance before grabbing Bokuto’s hand and pulling him into a run in the opposite direction.

Kuroo pulls out his knife and grins. He knows Oikawa can fight against other demons, but this is different. This is a hunter trained against people like Oikawa, and he’ll be harder for the demon to take down.

But not for Kuroo.

He runs down the hallway, sweat soaking through the back of his shirt, and he quiets his steps when he sees a door frozen halfway open. Voices—Akiteru’s voice—drifts quietly through the halls.

When Kuroo rounds the corner, Akiteru’s back is towards him. Element of surprise, always a nice thing to have. The hunter is grinning and Iwaizumi has Kunimi pushed behind him, Oikawa between the pair and their adversary. Akiteru is holding a gun. Fuck.

“I want to see my dear brother,” he drawls, putting his non-gun-holding hand on his hip. “Won’t you take me to him? I miss him so very much.”

“You’re disgusting!” Iwaizumi snaps, and that drags a reaction out of Akiteru. Kuroo presses himself to the wall, hidden, and watches the hunter grit his teeth.

“I am what I am,” he growls. “You think I was born this way?” He laughs. “I spent my whole life trying to please people, and they sent me down to _hell_. Powerless. Alone. I’ve had a thousand lifetimes to repent and I _did_. And for what? To get my heart ripped out by some apex demon? I’ve had enough of repenting. Give me my brother or give me a key. I’m not leaving without at least one.”

Ah. So his heart was ripped out. Ushijima really did leave behind a fat mess for the rest of them.

Iwaizumi goes to respond when Kuroo darts out of his hiding place, wrapping his hands around the gun in Akiteru’s hands and unloading it before throwing it out the doorway. Akiteru whips around, eyes blazing, and Kuroo goes for his knife when the hunter hisses,

“Freeze.”

Kuroo’s body locks down.

_No._

No, this is supposed to be impossible.

“Ah, yes, you’ve finally shown up!” Akiteru looks delighted. Kuroo feels ready to throw up. The edges of his vision begin to blur. “You really thought I wouldn’t destroy all of the magic your friends worked on this place? I’ve been around for quite a while, and I’m no fool. Although I have to say, it was quite a good attempt. You’ve gotten your hands on a powerful witch.” He leans in, his breath puffing white in the cold air. “Would you like them to see you break?”

Kuroo’s breath hitches. His eyes catch with Oikawa’s and he can’t look away. Oikawa looks terrified. 

“What would happen, I wonder, if I asked you to bleed them dry?” Akiteru wonders aloud. Kuroo pales. When he closes his eyes, he can hear someone creep closer to the door. There are pounding footsteps in the distance. “Would you like to find out? Or you could just…give me the key. Bring me to my brother.”

Kuroo’s brain launches into overdrive as he tries to figure out how to get out of this. He can’t think properly, though. His thoughts are so scrambled. His breath feels stilted and his head starts to feel fuzzy.

Something needs to happen before this gets bad. Before Kuroo totally loses control of himself.

Something does.

“HEY, ASSHOLE!”

Suddenly, everything goes black.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Iwaizumi falls to his knees as he stares. 

_Who the hell is this guy?_

The brunette—what, twenty-something?—stands triumphantly over Akiteru’s crumpled body, chest heaving with each heavy breath, pupils blown. He blinks once, twice, and rests his hands on his knees as he catches his breath.

“Whoever has the master key better get the fuck over here to finish the job, he’ll only be down for so long.”

Oikawa stares. “Who are you?”

“Who th—I’m, uh,” the man pauses. “I’m…a friend?”

Iwaizumi blinks. “I’m sorry, but that was the most un-fucking-trustworthy answer you could have possibly given.”

The man looks down at Akiteru.

“Can we do this later?” He asks. “Which one of you has the master key?”

“Master key?” Both Oikawa and Iwaizumi say at the same time. Bokuto creeps through the doorway, looking confused.

Suddenly, Oikawa blanches. “Wait—does the key—what does it look like?”

The man blinks. “It has a ‘K’ on it, I think? I don’t know. It looks fancy or something.”

Iwaizumi looks between Oikawa and the man, trying to discern if this is a trap or not. After all, what if this person is just looking to take the key once they reveal who has it? This is someone who just stabbed a terrifyingly powerful hunter.

“Oh, for christssake.” The man rolls his eyes. “I have a key, too, assholes. I’m not looking to kill any of you, I just want to be able to live in _peace_ again. This shit’s annoying to deal with. Don’t believe me?” He pulls a key out of his pocket and waves it at them before putting it back. “My buddy’s a good friend of Kenma’s. Now do you trust me? We’re sort of on a time limit here.”

Bokuto clears his throat and nods to Oikawa. “He’s telling the truth. Or at least, his heart rate was steady the whole time.”

The man jumps and whips around. “When the hell did you—“ Bokuto just grins at him. “Never mind. Look, the master key—it gives you power. That’s what A—what my friend told me. The person who it belongs to is the only one who can kill him.” He looks at Oikawa. “That seems to be you so, please, by all means.”

Oikawa rises. Iwaizumi’s hands clench around Kunimi’s prone form, tucking the demon against his chest. He walks over to Akiteru with power leaking out of every step. When he turns and kneels by Akiteru’s body, it reminds Iwaizumi of a the way a snake coils before it bites.

“You’ve hurt so many of my loved ones,” he whispers. Akiteru’s eyelashes flutter as he begins to awaken. He tries to speak, and Oikawa smiles sadistically and puts a finger to the hunter’s lips. “I wish I could make you suffer the way they did.”

“You can’t keep them safe forever,” Akiteru hisses. “Your friends are powerful, and someone will always come for them. Someday—“ he falls into a fit of coughs that leave red at his lips. “Someday you will fall.”

“Perhaps,” Oikawa nods. “But you will not be around to see it.”

He grabs the hilt of the knife. He smiles sweetly.

“I’ll say hello to your brother for you when we get home,” he says. He lets the rage, Akiteru’s recognition that he’d been so close the whole time, register. And then he _pushes_.

This body will not turn to dust like the others. But he doesn’t care enough to dispose of it himself.

“Come on,” he says to Iwaizumi, walking over. He reaches out and rubs Kunimi’s cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Let’s take him home.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

When Kuroo wakes up, he’s warm. That’s the first thing he notices. 

There’s a body next to him. He reaches out and feels a hand, a smaller palm but longer fingers. Kunimi. He closes his eyes and holds onto that hand, and feels tears start to gather in the corners of his eyes.

_Thank god._

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“Kei…” Hinata hesitates before sitting next to Tsukishima by the window. At the bed, Iwaizumi and Kageyama tend to the worst of Kunimi’s infections. “He’s really gone.”

Tsukishima closes his eyes. “He was gone a long time ago,” he says, and swallows. Hinata puts a hand on his shoulder. 

“I know that we’re not—that we’re not flock anymore. And that with him gone you don’t really need us around But…is it. Is it ok if—“

“Please stay.”

It’s quiet, almost a whisper, and the second Tsukishima says it he turns away. Red creeps up around his ears and Hinata grins at the familiarity of it all. When he responds, it’s equally quiet.

“Of course.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“It’s a full moon soon,” Matsukawa says as he throws his backpack into the back of his car. He turns to Bokuto with a serious expression. “It gets worst around then, for Kyoutani. He won’t be safe to deal with. We’ll be back after the winter solstice.”

Bokuto leans forward and claps a hand on Matsukawa’s shoulder, holding it there.

“Thank you,” he says. “We’ll do everything we can for him.”

Matsukawa smirks. “I know,” he says. “Look after the little one. We’ve grown fond of him.”

Bokuto just laughs. Oikawa walks over and tucks himself under Bokuto’s arm, and they wave as Yahaba and Hanamaki jump into the car with their pack leader. 

“You know,” Oikawa says, “I’m going to miss them. They were kind of fun.”

Judging from the grin Hanamaki sends them, he can hear every word. Bokuto snorts.

“I guess they grew on me,” he says. Matsukawa nods their way one more time before backing out of the driveway. Bokuto presses a kiss to Oikawa’s forehead. “Still think we’re the best pack of them all, though.”

“Let’s see,” Oikawa says playfully. “A werewolf, an angel, three demons, a vampire, and a witch. Who would’ve thought?” He goes on his tip toes so he can kiss Bokuto’s nose, and they both dissolve into giggles. 

“Am I interrupting anything?”

They both turn.

“Kei-channn!” Oikawa grins, delighted, and runs over to his boyfriend. Akaashi laughs as he bundles Oikawa up into a hug. 

“Kuroo just called. He’s going in and getting Kenma, and he’ll call again when he’s back out.”

Bokuto nods seriously. “How’s Tsukki?”

“Still struggling,” Akaashi shrugs. “He’s been through a lot the past few weeks. And with what happened a couple days ago…I can’t imagine ever having to leave something like that up to other people.”

“He’ll get through it,” Oikawa says confidently. “We’ll all help him. Besides, now he’s got Chibi-chan and the other idiot, too.”

“Chibi-chan?” Akaashi asks, amused. Bokuto laughs.

“I like it!” He says. He pulls both of his boyfriends in tight and closes his eyes. “No matter what. We’re here for each other.”

“Pack,” Oikawa says. “Coven, too, technically, right?”

Akaashi snorts. “Now all we need is an elf or something and we’ll be a matching set.”

“Kei-chan,” Oikawa gasps dramatically, “don’t be preposterous. Elves aren’t _real_!”

They all laugh together as they make their way home.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Kenma’s always liked stations. He likes waiting.

Kuroo rubs his hands together for heat as he approaches the station in the mirror world. 

“You know,” he says loudly, into the silence of the night, “I have one question.”

Kenma turns with wide eyes and smiles briefly at the sight of his old friend.

“Well?” He asks, when it’s apparent Kuroo is waiting for a response. The vampire shoves his hands into his pockets and sits next to Kenma on the station bench. It’s ridiculously cold. Immediately his butt turns to a block of ice.

“Why on earth would you give a key to Ushijima of all creatures?”

Kenma thinks on it for a minute. “Because I trusted him with it.”

Well, alrighty then. 

“Did he…were you guys friends back then? Before he went crazy?”

“No.” Kenma’s nothing if not frank. “He was powerful, and he had clear goals.”

Kuroo laughs into the night. His breath turns into little puffs of clouds. 

“So you’re saying he was easy to manipulate.”

Kenma narrows his eyes. “Stop trying to make me sound sketchy.”

“Kenma, my dude, you sort of already are.” Kuroo pulls out the key, an elaborate ‘K’ at the handle. “Oikawa gave this to me, and I do believe it belongs to you.” He holds it out.

Slowly, Kenma accepts the key. He stares at it, testing the weight in his palms. It’s almost as if he doesn’t believe he really has it back.

“Thank you.”

“You know, it’s not very original,” Kuroo points out. “K for Kozume? I mean, really?”

“King.”

Kuroo blinks. “What?”

“K for King.” Kenma takes a deep breath. “Listen. There something I need to tell you.”

Kuroo’s eyes widen.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“This…this feels weird,” Oikawa says as he scrunches up his nose. Akaashi sighs as those brown eyes land on him. “Why are we still eating your dank-ass chicken?”

“He’s got a point,” Tsukishima grumbles. “This sucks.”

Hinata looks like he wants to chime in with a not-so-polite comment, but seems to think better of it. Good.

Kuroo glances around at them all before taking a bite.

“It’s delicious,” he tells Akaashi, totally straight faced. Then he turns his head and spits it back into his napkin. “Bokuto, please pass the mashed potatoes.”

Bokuto can’t, because he’s too busy laughing his ass off. Akaashi pinches the bridge of his nose.

“It’s like dealing with kindergarteners,” he grumbles.

“Thank you for cooking,” Kunimi says, and they all pause. The demon still has bandages covering almost all of his arms, and looks incredibly pale. But he’s smiling, which no one should do when faced with Akaashi’s horribly salty chicken. When he realises they’re all looking at him he blushes and looks away, and Tsukishima feels the protective urge to lend him a hand.

“Yeah,” he says, glaring at Hinata’s happy glow, “thanks for cooking. Looks…good.”

It’s true. Aside from the chicken, the food really does look good. Tsukishima didn’t spend last christmas with them, so this is…nice. It feels warm. And after all of the shit he’s been through the past week, he feels good for the first time in a while. Kunimi is safe and back, and Kuroo’s finally settled again. 

“You know,” Bokuto says, “I haven’t really thought about it ’til now, but like…where did that guy go? The one that helped us back in the warehouse?”

“Who cares,” Iwaizumi says. “We can worry about that later. He’s obviously not an enemy, that’s for sure.”

Tsukishima raises an eyebrow. They’d already told him everything that happened, but it seems a little odd to him. He has a nagging sensation that they once again had their success orchestrated by Kenma. Slippery little bastard. On the run and he still manages to pull all the strings just right.

Still. He’d probably be dead without that, so he’ll let it slide. For now.

Besides, he can always pull for answers later. Now? Now is for dinner. 

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“Well, that was the worst,” the baker grumbles as he throws the dough into the counter. It’s only three in the afternoon and they’ve already run out of bread rolls. He glances out the window and sees snow falling— _still_ , there’s already two feet of it, isn’t that enough?

“It ended rather well, in my opinion.”

“Jesus—fuck! Don’t sneak up on me like that, holy shit!” He whips around and glares at Kenma, who sits on a stool in the corner. There’s a video game in the king’s hands. “What, did you get tired of hiding?”

“An old friend got me out,” he says. “Thank you for helping them. I would have come earlier…”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I honestly didn’t realise they were there until we literally ran into each other. It was almost—“ a pause—“wait, no, fuck you! You totally set that up, don’t think I didn’t realize!”

Kenma pointedly keeps his eyes on his game.

“Are you kidding me?” Brown eyes narrow. “Oh, no. No no no. You’re not going to pull me into your little games. I refuse. All of those guys are total idiots and I will have _nothing_ to do with them. I don’t care what sort of magical shit goes after them. I am staying out of it.”

“I didn’t say otherwise,” Kenma says in monotone. 

“Don’t try to fool me you little bastard, I know that look.” He pauses when the bell from the front door of the cafe chimes. He glares at Kenma. “If you think this conversation is over you are fucking wrong. I’m not getting involved with those idiots, not even wh—“

“Yo, Futakuchi,” one of the baristas greets as she pops into the backroom. “Who’re you talking to?”

Futakuchi whips around and points—

—to an empty stool.

“Uh,” the barista says slowly, totally weirded out, “ok.”

Futakuchi pinches the bridge of his nose. “Is there something you need?”

“Yeah, sorry, but the espresso machine is acting up again and this guy just came up with, like, an eighty-drink order. Would you mind?”

Futakuchi rolls his eyes and sighs, clapping the flour off of his hands and following the barista out of the backroom and behind the store counter. “Alright, show me the—“

A head of shocking white hair streaked in grey enters his vision and the blood in Futakuchi’s body goes cold. He turns to look into Bokuto Koutarou’s wide golden eyes.

Bokuto points and shrieks.

“IT’S YOU!”

 

_The end._


	2. A Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing. Grey noise in his ears, numb fingers, something that smells like burnt chicken. Akaashi can’t feel his feet. He can’t feel—
> 
> He blinks, and there are voices in his head that don’t exist and he looks down at his hands and finds them burnt. Someone is grabbing his shoulders, pulling him in, but he can’t feel them at all. As though he isn’t in his own body. He sees red eyes and feels something weighted like chains on his feet. Oh. He can feel them now. They hurt.
> 
> He looks up.
> 
> _My coven is dead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is a sneak peek at the next work in the series!

When Oikawa stumbles across the house for the first time, he’s terrified out of his mind. Out in the distance he can hear Ushijima’s underlings picking apart the woods. Dry leaves crackle under his bare, bloody feet and he darts up the steps of the house and flings the door open. The lock buckles under the force of his pull. Dust billows out into his face and Oikawa takes a couple steps back, throwing a hand up to cover his face.

Once the cold October wind pulls the dust away Oikawa makes his way inside and looks around.

It’s…drab.

Whoever the previous owner was, they took mildly good care of the place at best. It’s a western style, but he can see the faint lines in the wood where tatami mats protected it from sun damage; there’s faint swirls of calligraphy over half-disintegrated paper on a cobwebbed table in the hall. 

He doesn’t touch anything. His bare feet leave bloody footprints on the floor as he walks around.

The glass windows are thicker at the bottom than the top. He sees a set of stairs and makes his way up them, spikes of adrenaline rushing up his spine at every creak. It’s only when he’s at the top of the stairs, fingernails digging curves into his clenched fists, that he dares to look out the window.

They’re…

They’re not coming near the house.

One of the blasphemies stares at it from the edge of the trees, scanning, before shrugging and moving on. As though they can’t even see anything, as though Oikawa’s not staring down at them from the second story of a ratty but sizable abode.

Too tired to think about why that is, Oikawa leans against the wall by the window and slides to the ground. He can feel a tugging in his gut—probably Iwaizumi’s magic, still trying to draw the two of them back together. And he can still imagine the look on that little demon’s face, shackles weighing down his bony ankles as Ushijima roared in anger at Oikawa’s betrayal. _Kunimi_. Oikawa hopes he’s ok.

He passes out with Kunimi’s terrified expression burned into his eyelids.

 

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Fingertips roll over the smooth oak table with little clicks, sending shivers down Kuroo’s spine. He glances around the rest of the table and sizes up the others with cold, carefully expressionless eyes. 

Nekomata is at the head of the table. For someone so short and plump, he has a definitively menacing aura surrounding him, bleeding into the crinkles in the corners of his eyes and the way his mouth slides into a smile. It feels like a hungry panther watching over them all, taking in every single movement and cataloguing it _just in case_. His henchmen—as cheesy as it is to call them that—are littered around the room, all dressed in black suits and sporting some piece of a silver watch. Kuroo’s own sits heavy in his pocket, a skeleton pocket watch crafted specifically for him. The date of his orientation is pressed firm into the metal.

Lev stands behind Yaku’s chair, directly across from Kuroo and one empty chair away from Nekomata. The Russian shifts from foot to foot as though uncomfortable—the way the chain on his wrist cuff is taut in Yaku’s hold, Kuroo wouldn’t doubt it—but his body remains totally in tune to his ‘partner’. 

Kuroo grits his teeth. _Why did he bring Lev?_ It’s a danger to their plan; if Nekomata catches even the slightest hint of empathy between the pair, it’s over for all of them. For it to end now would just be—

“Tetsurou.” Nekomata mutters, and Kuroo stands and shifts close to the elder. Nekomata lets his calloused hand brush over the hunter’s wrist before gripping tight and yanking, forcing Kuroo to his knees. The hand grips one side of Kuroo’s neck, angling it to reveal the raised flesh under his jaw. Branded onto his skin, no bigger than a couple centimeters, are the letters _IX_. His id. Nekomata lets his fingers brush against them and Kuroo closes his eyes and shivers. “What a loyal boy. You are one of the only surviving hunters of your pedigree. Can I trust you with the next mission?”

Kuroo can’t nod and knows he’s not been asked to speak, so he remains motionless. After a long pause, he swallows, and Nekomata’s fingers drift lightly over Kuroo’s neck before settling onto the arm of the chair. 

“Good,” Nekomata’s voice is a low rumble, like a whisper from the shadows. Yaku— _X_ —is watching Kuroo emotionlessly from the chair, but his hands are clasped tightly together under the table. Kuroo is counting on him and Lev to come over to his apartment later and make sure he’s in the right headspace for whatever mission he’s about to be given.

“Good,” Nekomata repeats, leaning back in his chair. He nods, and Kuroo stands and moves back to his seat. “Then let’s begin this meeting.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Nothing. Grey noise in his ears, numb fingers, something that smells like burnt chicken. Akaashi can’t feel his feet. He can’t feel—

He blinks, and there are voices in his head that don’t exist and he looks down at his hands and finds them burnt. Someone is grabbing his shoulders, pulling him in, but he can’t feel them at all. As though he isn’t in his own body. He sees red eyes and feels something weighted like chains on his feet. Oh. He can feel them now. They hurt.

He looks up.

_My coven is dead._

Something wet. He looks up, realizes he’s outside. No—not outside. Around him, the remnants of the house flicker with the colors of embers, barely lit. He thinks—he thinks he sees a hand under the rubble.

He drags himself onto his side and vomits, but nothing comes out. When his stomach is done clenching he pulls himself upright and stares up at the sky.

_My coven is dead._

He looks back at the hand. It’s limp. One standing beam finally loses its stability and falls, crashing into the place where the body must be. The hand jerks up and flecks away in pieces of ash until there’s nothing left.

_One of them,_ he realizes. Not a witch. Not one of his…

He gets up. He’s vaguely aware of his injuries. He remembers what his mother screamed at him as she was dragged down the stairs, away away away. He closes his eyes and remembers the address. The safe house.

He starts walking.

 

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Bokuto follows the scent to the edge of the ravine and looks down at how the dirt crumbles down the side of the cliff as he paws it. Oh well. He’ll bring his packmate home later. He turns a little as Yukie shifts and approaches. 

_He still doesn’t want to come home?_

Bokuto shakes his head and she lets out a huff through her nose and looks out at the rushing water. When he turns away she shifts back into her human form and begins picking her way along the cliff’s edge. 

“Think he fell?” She asks, observing the claw marks at the edges. Bokuto shrugs. “Hmm. Well, either way if he doesn’t answer to the sister pack they’ll hunt him down. It’ll end in blood.”

Bokuto shifts back. “I don’t know where he is, seriously.”

“I never said I thought you did.”

They stare at each other, at an impasse.

“You know, Bo, I never really thought being adopted into the main family pack suited you,” Yukie says after a moment. “You could do it if you wanted to, for sure, but…”

“What else am I supposed to do?!” Bokuto tugs at his hair in frustration. “What even can I do besides do what they ask of me?”

“Konoha would have—“

“Konoha betrayed the branch family, and now if we can’t catch him they’re going to hunt him like a wild animal.” 

“But he would be free.”

Bokuto laughs. “Free from what? From running for the rest of his life? From settling down? From starting a pack of his own? He can never do those things, they’ll always be searching for him.”

“I miss when the main branch family didn’t scare you,” Yukie says quietly. “That was when we all really started looking up to you.” He doesn’t reply. “You know, there’s another pack. In the North. It’s not led by a bloodline, and they’re supposed to be powerful. They’re supposed to be on good terms with Konoha’s brother.”

“So?”

“So, look at where we are, and where the pack house is.”

Bokuto glances up at the setting sun and then backwards. The pack house is south of where they are now.

“You think—“

“I think,” Yukie says carefully, “that you should wish so much to keep the main branch family’s honor, that you follow him. You hunt him relentlessly, day and night, so fast that none of the family’s henchmen can keep up. You go north. To find him.”

“And—what, disappear forever?”

He blinks and realizes that she’s already heading back into the forest.

“I’m not saying that at all,” she says breezily. “But it’s the North, Bokuto. People go missing up there all the time.” And then she’s gone. Bokuto stares back at the empty place where she used to be, and then shuffles closer to the edge of the cliff.

_I know you didn’t fall._

He takes a deep breath. 

North.

Right.

He jumps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment and let me know what you think/if you have any questions!

**Author's Note:**

> there we have it! a bit of a cliffhanger. 
> 
> i have not yet planned the overall plot of the next instalment, just minor details, so unfortunately i cannot say if it will focus on a specific character or not. just know that i will be doing my best! even if it is forever before an update lmao


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